


The Varia's Hairdresser

by Starchains



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alcohol, Babysitting, Blood, Cloud Canaries, Cookies, Discussion of Necrophilia, Gen, Hair Dyeing, Haircuts, Head Injury, Kidnapping, Knives, M/M, Rain Butterflies, Remember the Future, Revenge, box weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-03-22 04:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 37,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3715903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starchains/pseuds/Starchains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry moved to Italy for peace and quiet. He made sure to choose a nice little salon, out of the way of any possible trouble. So of course, the Varia had to walk in and take an interest. Being rewritten a chapter at a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bel's Haircut

Harry was shocked when, on his third day of working in the tiny salon, Alberto pulled him into the tiny back room. He caught a glimpse of the customers who had just walked in as the door closed behind him. He wondered what the problem was; normally, Alberto would be jumping at the chance to style such interesting people.

"We're leaving now," Alberto told him, as he pushed him towards the back entrance.

"What? Why?" This was just too bizarre.

"Those people are crazy. We'll be lucky if we're just out of business tomorrow; their last hairdresser disappeared completely!" Alberto explained frantically, nearly in tears. Alberto was prone to dramatics, but Harry had never seen him this honestly scared. These people must be something special. Despite himself, Harry grinned. He had been looking for a challenge. When he saw Alberto look at him in horror, he realised his obvious glee was probably inappropriate.

Hearing the frantic voice of Daniela, and the raised voice of one of the customers, Harry decided to intervene. Stepping out of the back room with his best smile fixed in place, Harry spoke gently to Daniela.

"Why don't you take a break?" As she rushed, not to the back room but straight out the door, Harry turned to the customers. They certainly made an impression. There was a long-haired blond and well-built man with half his hair long and green and the other half shaved. Behind them was a boy who looked about twelve, with hair covering the top half of his face. Harry wasn't sure which one of them was the customer – they all looked like they could use some help. The blond soon answered his unasked question.

"The princess needs a haircut. Can you handle that, scum?" Had the blond never heard of an indoor voice? Or conditioner? His hair was halfway down his back and an absolute mess.

"The prince does not need a haircut," the teenager with bangs covering his eyes said with a pout.

"Why don't we talk about what you want before we start then?" Harry steered them to the sofas in the little waiting area, and then called to Alberto. "Can you flip the sign to 'closed' before you take your break please, Alberto?"

As Alberto took the opportunity to leave, casting worried glances over his shoulder as he went, Harry sat down with the customers.

"My name is Harry,"

"Voi! We don't care what your name is!"

"And I'll be looking after you today. So," Harry decided to address the teenager directly, since it seemed to be his hair that he was supposed to cut, "what do you want doing to your hair?"

"The prince doesn't want anything doing." The boy was definitely sulking.

"But Bel, sweetie," the man with half his head shaved cooed, "you know that you need…"

"No!" Bel yelled. "The last one who cut my hair saw my eyes! No one is allowed to see the prince's eyes." The boy sounded genuinely distressed.

"I don't have to see your eyes," Harry told the boy before he could start crying or something. Ever since Cho, he had nursed a huge dislike for crying people. As soon as he finished speaking, the attention of all three was fixed on him. It was rather like being stared at by a mob of fan girls just before they charged. Gathering his courage, he continued.

"I can trim your bangs just enough to even them, so they're still well below eye level. I can thin the hair to make it easier for you to see, or I can leave it, whichever you prefer. And I can add some layers and texture to the rest of your hair, so it looks more stylishly messy. Will that work for you?"

Bel smiled the second-creepiest smile Harry had ever seen. "The prince likes him! I will allow you to cut my hair." He giggled happily, his mood apparently lifted. Harry chose to ignore how disturbing the sound was, and guide the boy into a chair while he was still cooperative.

"Don't try to see my eyes. Just trim the bangs," Bel ordered. Now that he was in the chair, some of his distress seemed to have returned.

"Of course. Would you take the crown off," Harry wasn't able to get any further than that. It was only his war-trained reflexes that allowed him to duck out of the way of the knife that buried itself in the wall behind him.

"I won't!" The boy had knives in both hands and a scowl on his face. Harry mustered up every bit of experience he had commanding reluctant teenagers.

"Prince Bel. You will put those away and you will take your crown off now. You are far too old to be throwing tantrums like this, and I won't have such immature unprincely behaviour in my salon." Harry kept his voice calm and focussed all of his attention on the shocked boy, ignoring the presence of the older teens behind him. After a strained minute, the knives disappeared into hidden pockets and the boy sat down, removing the tiara and clutching it tightly in one hand, as the other went to an inside pocket of his jacket. From behind him, he heard a whispered "Voi!"

Harry got to work quickly. It didn't take long to get the bangs evened up. He trimmed them so they hit halfway down his nose, a length that seemed to please the self-proclaimed 'prince'. Once the bangs had been approved, the boy relaxed and let go of whatever he had been gripping so tightly in his pocket. For his own peace of mind, Harry chose to believe that it was only a comfort object, and the boy hadn't been planning to stab him.

His two friends relaxed as well once Harry started trimming and layering the rest of his hair. The loud blond huffed and stalked over to the sofa, where he flung himself down and started flipping through one of the magazines. The one with the green hair started offering commentary.

"That looks so much better now!"

Or "You see how much nicer it is getting it done professionally than trying to do it with your knives, Bel?" Harry wasn't even going to touch that one.

Soon the cut was done, and the boy was admiring his new look. As he preened, the green-haired man paid Harry, complete with an outrageous tip. Evidently getting bored of waiting, the loud blond grabbed Bel's shoulder and pulled him out the door. Harry heard the cries of "Voi!" and the creepy giggles trailing off into the distance as green-hair waved goodbye. Despite himself, Harry found himself wanting them to return. Whatever else they were, they weren't boring.


	2. The Bratty Prince's Haircut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course, making Bel do anything could never be easy, could it? At least the hairdresser is interesting.

It was time for Bel to get his hair cut. When Squalo had joined the Varia, he'd been told about the interesting people he would be able to kill, the new places he would see, the strong opponents to fight, new sword styles to learn. No one had mentioned the babysitting. With the Boss out of action (and that burned every time he thought about it, so he didn't think about it much. It didn't keep him up at night, or make his breath catch at random moments) Squalo was in charge. That meant paperwork, mission requests, and all the other irritations he had expected to come with the position. He hadn't realised that it also meant listening to Lussuria bitch about his newest boyfriend and making sure that Bel ate his vegetables. Because somehow, he'd become a parental figure to the most messed up child in existence. If you’d asked him at twelve what he thought his life would be like after defeating the Sword Emporer, this would not have been his answer. Most days, he didn’t mind the life he’d somehow found himself living. This was not one of those days.

Squalo had to make sure Bel was educated – which generally meant searching through the Varia for someone with the appropriate knowledge or skill, and praying that Bel didn't kill them for being wrong, or boring. It was a way to thin the herd, and surviving a lesson with Bel had become something of a rite of passage among the Varia. One member of the Rain Squad had managed to teach Bel three whole hours of advanced Maths without incurring more than light injuries, a feat that hadn’t been repeated since by anyone.

He had to make sure that Bel ate properly, and the brat was almost as fussy as Boss. He also had to try and make sure that his entertainment was all age appropriate, a task which somehow managed to be even harder. Giving Bel the Talk was the most excruciatingly embarrassing half-hour of Squalo’s life. He had only done it because Bel had threatened to ask Lussuria if Squalo didn't explain why the girl was screaming like that if there was no blood involved. Squalo himself had endured two minutes of Lussuria’s verion of the ‘Birds and the Bees’ when he had firt entered the Varia, and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. With his pale skin, the blush ahd been humiliatingly obvious, and Lussuria had teased him about it for months. The only good thing about the encounter was the wonderful four hours teaching Levi why he shouldn't leave his porn lying around. Of course, he had then been forced to take over the duties of the Lightning Guardian while Levi recovered.

And now, the hardest task of all. Bel did not like having his hair cut. He was terrified of someone seeing his eyes (which had led to the deaths of three hairdressers). Squalo wasn’t sure exactly where the fear came from, but he was willing to humour it. He just wished the boy would choose a more convenient way to cover his eyes; he had refused to consider sunglasses or coloured contacts. Bel didn't like someone having scissors near his neck, which they all understood, and was why the Varia always visited the hair dresser in groups. The instincts of an assassin were hard to defeat. The spoiled Prince didn't think that any of the peasants were worthy of cutting his hair in the first place. But it had almost reached his mouth, and Squalo was tired of hearing him bitch about it. None of the Varia had any skills in hair dressing, and the one time Bel had tried to do it himself, he had managed to cut himself with one of his knives. Squalo wasn't willing to sacrifice sixteen Varia members (and face the damn paperwork) every time Bel needed a trim, so he insisted on taking it to a professional.

Lussuria had made the appointment without telling the receptionist who was coming. The last time they had made that mistake, the salon had closed down the day before their appointment. Lussuria had hunted down the hair dressers to make an example, but Bel still didn't get a haircut. Squalo disliked wasting effort like that.

Bel had been whining the whole car ride, and combined with Lussuria's trilling, Squalo had one hell of a headache by the time they pulled up to the salon. He turned to talk to Bel before he unlocked the car. After the first time he had driven with Bel, he had learned of the beauty of child locks. Normally, the Prince slept through car rides, but on the rare occasions when he was too wired to drop off, he was a nightmare.

"Voi! Behave. No knives, no tantrums. We go in, get your hair cut, and leave. I don't need any blood today, got it?"

"I don't have to do what you say." Dear God, the brat was pouting. Had he learned about teenage rebellion from trashy American movies?

"If you can't manage this, brat, then we'll go home and I'll let Lussuria cut your hair." Bel looked disturbed at Lussuria's exclamation of glee. Squalo didn't blame him, the sound sent shivers down his own spine.

"What will the Prince get if he cooperates?" Bel tried hard to hide the tremble in his voice.

He was obviously genuinely upset instead of just complaining. The third person only came out when something was really bothering him, so Squalo relented.

"I'll let you watch the Saw movies this evening. We can marathon them." Bel had been wanting to watch them since they came out. The responsible-adult side of Squalo had refused him. But that part had never been very loud, and it wasn't like movies could make Bel more disturbed and bloodthirsty than the little Prince already was. As far as Squalo was concerned, they were more likely to give him wet dreams than nightmares. Which was disturbing enough for him to want to retract his offer.

Taking a deep breath, Squalo unlocked the car door and led his little band into the salon. Mission – get Bel's haircut. First obstacle – receptionist. As he turned to the girl and gave her his least terrifying smile, that still made her go pale, he saw two men vanishing into the back room. If they were planning on a quickie while there were customers waiting, Squalo might have to kill them for sheer unprofessionalism. He knew better than to expect anything approaching Varia Quality from civilians, but he still had standards.

As the woman fluttered and sputtered and was generally useless, Squalo felt his hand twitching for a sword. He had told Bel not to kill anyone, which meant that he wasn't allowed to either, but he'd be damned if he wasn't tempted.

"Voi! Where the hell is the hairdresser then!" Squalo was hanging onto his patience by a thread when one of the two back-room-boys came towards them with a smile. Black hair, green eyes, five foot five, this would be Harry Evans. Born in England, raised by his Aunt and Uncle, attended a private school, took a course in hair dressing and moved to Italy three months ago, hired by this salon just last week. Squalo ran through the key points in his head automatically. Running a background check on someone holding a sharp object near your neck was just common sense.

Evans had obviously come to rescue the useless receptionist, as he told her to leave, talking to her like you would to a skittish animal. Or like a normal person would to a skittish animal. None of the Varia were very good at the 'calm, soothing voice' thing.

As he turned to look at the group with a bright smile on his face, Squalo fought the urge to slice him up. Who the hell smiles at assassins? The man either had the best customer service skills in the world, or no sense of self-preservation at all.

"The princess needs a haircut. Can you handle that, scum?” Squalo decided to be nice, giving the man a chance to back away before he got hurt and Squalo had to clean his blood off the floor.

Bel immediately chimed in. "The prince does not need a haircut." Third person again. Crap. All this time wasting had let his nerves build back up. If the hairdresser wasn't careful, Squalo would be scraping his bloody remains off the walls by the end of the day. Cleaning up after Bel's hits was always a nightmare, and his tantrums were worse.

To Squalo’s shock, the smile didn't drop as Evans led them over to the sofas. He asked the other back-room-boy to close the salon on his way out. Was he just trying to help his friend? His attitude was more of a leader evacuating his people from a danger zone. His background check hadn't shown anything that would lead to that kind of response, so Squalo was confused. As the Captain of the Varia, he couldn’t afford to have gaps in his information, even about something as insignificant as a hairdresser.

"My name is Harry," he started. Squalo cut him off. He knew that already, and with Bel so wound up, they had a limited time frame to get this done.

Evan's didn't take offence, which was rare. The man was getting more and more interesting to the Rain Officer. Squalo was even more stunned when he asked Bel what he would like directly. Most civilians only saw Bel's age, and talked over his head. Most civilians didn't have a very long life expectancy around Prince the Ripper.

Bel insisted that he didn't want a haircut. Distress or not, Squalo was tempted to take the brat over his knee. id he think that the rest of them wanted to be here either? Lussuria might enjoy the day out, but he sure as hell wasn't dragging him here for fun. The only good thing so far had been that Luss kept his mouth shut.

Of course, Squalo should have known better than to tempt fate. His headache burst back into life as Lussuria started cooing at Bel, as though that had ever encouraged him to do anything except the opposite of what he was asked. For a martial artist, trained to read the tiniest movement in his opponent’s body and react accordingly, Lussuria could be extraordinarily bad at reading people. That or he was just a troll. Squalo hadn’t decided which.

And of course Belphegor had to start throwing a tantrum. A Varia Quality assassin he might have been, but the Prince was still a twelve year old boy, and an incredibly spoilt one at that. Most of the time, he took pride in acting like an adult, but occasionally he threw a hissy fit any three year old would be proud of. If today was one of those times, Squalo was going to cut the brat’s hair himself. With his sword.

Squalo decided that the hairdresser had either the biggest balls known to man, or with no self-preservation instincts at all, because he completely ignored Bel's tantrum, which had been known to send trained assassins fleeing in terror. The civilian sounded confident that he could cut Bel's hair without seeing his eyes. Squalo didn’t think he would be so calm if he knew that his life literally depended on it, and he was bemused by the fact that he didn’t seem the least bit shaken by the bizarre request. At least his calm relaxed Bel before the tantrum could really get started.

Evans looked a little like a deer in headlights as the Varia stared at him. Most civilians would have run away screaming from even one of them. Squalo hardly dared to hope that they could have finally found a Varia Quality hair dresser. Lussuria looked as eager as a child in a candy shop. If the civilian did as good a job of cutting hair as he did at managing Bel, Squalo didn't put it past Lussuria to kidnap the poor man. He wasn't sure that hr would discourage him either. It would save him from having to drag Bel into town every time he needed a trim, and give Lussuria someone to babble about hair styles to.

"I can trim your bangs just enough to even them, so they're still well below eye level. I can thin the hair to make it easier for you to see, or I can leave it, whichever you prefer. And I can add some layers and texture to the rest of your hair, so it looks more stylishly messy. Will that work for you?"

Evans still sounded professional, and his voice didn't show any of the startled-bunny that was in his eyes. If Lussuria didn't kidnap him for his bedroom, Squalo might have to, just to figure out what he was hiding. Squalo growled as he realised how that sounded in his head, drawing a startled look from Lussuria, who giggled as soon as he saw Squalo’s face. The swordsman knew he was blushing bright red, a drawback of his pale skin. He was not interested in keeping the pretty civilian man in his bedroom! He just wanted to know what the hell the man was hiding, since his background was obviously as fake as Squalo’s own.

Bel had obviously found his new best friend, if his smiling and giggling was anything to go by. Years of experience had taught Squalo how to read Bel’s face without the benefit of seeing his eyes, and that was a happy, friendly grin. The poor hairdresser was never going to escape the Varia now. Bel very rarely showed interest in anything that wasn’t food, naps or his knives and wires, but the few things that caught his attention were given all the single-minded intensity a cat shows a mouse.

That was, the hairdresser had to survive the rest of the day before he needed to worry about catching the interest of a group of assassins. Not that that seemed to be a problem for the infuriatingly intriguing civilian. He dodged the knife Bel threw like a professional (who did the background check? Squalo made a mental note to track them down and kill them for sheer incompetence) and didn't run screaming for the door. Squalo felt like an idiot as he tuned back in to the situation. Why had he not predicted that Bel might react badly to being told to take the damn tiara off?

Squalo was not expecting Evans to glare at Bel like a parent facing a child who hadn’t tidied their bedroom. "Prince Bel. You will put those away and you will take your crown off now. You are far too old to be throwing tantrums like this, and I won't have such immature unprincely behaviour in my salon."

Squalo whispered "Voi" under his breath.  He was in awe, and maybe a little bit in love. The hairdresser clearly had balls of steel. The men knew exactly which buttons to push to get a reaction from Bel, after spending less than half an hour with him. Who had taught him to read people like that? This man was as much a civilian as Squalo himself.

And Bel listened. He took the damn crown off and sat down. Not even Mammon, the Varia member Bel liked best, could make Bel do that. Not even the Boss could have, some days. Bel was the only Varia member who had gotten away unharmed from disobeying the Boss, mainly because the man had a secret weakness for adorable, lethal things. But still, this tiny little thing had done what Boss couldn’t, without a weapon. Once he was kidnapped – because it was a matter of when now, not if - Squalo was stealing him from Lussuria and making him Bel's babysitter. Somehow, he didn't think the prince would object.

Squalo sat in silence and watched the man work. He was quick and professional, making sure that Bel's hair was always covering his eyes and not trying any of that 'friendly conversation' that hairdressers liked and which had been the cause of more unpaid Varia assassinations than insulting the crazy prince. Assassins, especially ones already keyed up from being in such a vulnerable situation, were not generally fans of small talk. The movements of the civilian were quick and precise, strands of hair fluttering to the floor in a gentle cascade. Squalo wondered what Evans would look like with a sword in his hand. All that restrained power was wasted on scissors.

Lussuria started his twittering as he admired Bel’s new look. Squalo could admit that it was neater than it had been, but he didn’t see anything all that special about it. He was more focussed on Evans than on Lussuria, enough that he could actual tune out the irritating martial artist. The haircut was finished quickly, and Bel seemed to like it, given the way he was flipping it in the mirror like a model for a shampoo commercial. After giving Lussuria enough time to pay the man and make whatever excuses for their behaviour he needed to, Squalo dragged Bel out the door. He needed to do more research on Harry Evans.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten 16/8/15


	3. Lussuria's Haircut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lussuria needs a haircut. Harry needs his nice, safe, blood-free life back.

Harry was the only person working when a Varia member next visited the salon. There were only four people who worked there anyway, so he was used to not having much company while he worked. He liked it that way; it meant that he was familiar with everyone he was expected to interact with on a regular basis. He was used to working around them, so they didn't set off his war-honed reflexes like working with strangers would. That particular night, Daniela was off sick, it was Alberto's day off and Emilia had vanished again. It was a slow day anyway, so it wasn't too much for Harry to handle by himself. He was just seeing off the last customer of the day when the flamboyant green-haired man from a couple of weeks ago flounced in, clutching a bag, wailing, and drenched in blood. The leaving customer dashed for the door, squeezing against the wall to avoid brushing against the strange man. Harry sighed and flipped the sign on the door to 'Closed'. He could sense that this was going to be a long job, and he could feel his chances of a relaxing bath and an early night fading away with every drop of blood that plopped down onto the floor.

"How can I help you? I'm afraid I didn't catch your name last time,' Harry said with his best dealing-with-the-customer smile as he showed the man to the sofas. He even managed not to wince at the blood that was smeared all over them as the man flung himself down dramatically, posing like he expected a cameraman with a taste for the macabre and bizarre to be wandering by. Years spent scrubbing the blood from his nosebleeds and skinned knees out from carpets and sofas, lest he face the wrath of Aunt Petunia, had made him very aware of exactly how hard it would be to get the sofas back to their former cream colour. They would probably have to be replaced.

"I'm Lussuria! Did I not introduce myself last time? How rude of me, I'm so embarrassed! And it's simply dreadful. That awful man bled all over me; the uniform is probably ruined! Can you believe his nerve? Some people just refuse to die neatly, it's so inconsiderate. I have no idea how to get all of this filth out of my hair without using peroxide, which would be awful. I can't bleach my hair, Harry-chan! It would take weeks to get it back to fabulous again, and I can't spend weeks with hair like straw. It's just unbearable, I'm shuddering thinking about it. And Bel cut it! Cut it! I told that little menace to be careful with his knives, but will he listen? I can't go back to headquarters with my hair like this! It's a disaster." Lussuria sobbed theatrically, pulling a blood-soaked handkerchief from a pocket and wringing it out before using it to wipe the blood from his face. In the end, it smeared across his face like war paint.

Harry took a deep breath and shifted to mission mode, picking out the useful information from Lussuria's disturbing speech and putting aside the things that he really didn't want to think about. Even wandless, he was confident in his ability to take down a muggle, but he really didn't need to have it confirmed that he was dealing with a murderer. He knew that the war had skewed both his morality and his sense of self-preservation, but that didn't mean he was thrilled to be helping a man whose biggest problem with a violent death was staining his clothes. Harry steered his mind away from questions of morality with the ease of practice, focussing on what needed to be done.

"You need to get clean then. Do you have a change of clothes? I don't think any of my spares will fit you." That was an understatement. Harry was five foot five and skinny as a twig, whereas Lussuria was at least six foot and built like a bodybuilder. There was no way he would be able to squeeze into even Harry's drawstring sweatpants.

Lussuria held up his bag with a triumphant grin. Obviously, he had come prepared. Had he expected to end up soaked in blood? Harry really didn't want to know. Without any warning, Lussuria started to wriggle out of his bloodstained leather, letting the clothes drop to the floor with a wet slap. Harry just turned his back politely. Living in a dorm with communal showers, and then fighting in war with limited bathing facilities, had pretty much removed his body shyness. Besides, with people like Lussuria, showing a reaction like embarrassment or anger was like throwing fuel on a fire. He seemed like the Weasley twins in that way. His suspicions were confirmed when Lussuria pouted at his lack of reaction after he turned back around. Had he been expecting Harry to blush and faint? He hoped it had just been innocent teasing, rather than a serious test. He was not in the mood for mind games.

Harry was glad to see that Lussuria was wearing boxers and a tank top even before he put on whatever was in the bag, and that despite the mess his clothes had been he himself was mostly blood-free. Harry handed him a damp cloth to wipe away the little blood that had made it past the leather, while he took the leather clothes himself. The coppery scent was overpowering, and the feel of blood of his hands was instantly familiar. He took shallow breaths through his mouth and forced his mind to stay in the present.

"Do you want me to try to clean these here, or do you want to take them to a professional?" He was willing to give cleaning them a try, but he really hoped Lussuria didn't want him to. Getting blood out of leather was a nightmare. By the end of the war, they had all given up on wearing clothes that couldn't be easily washed or replaced. Apart from the Weasley twins, who clung to their dragon-hide jackets with a fierce possessiveness that was somewhat disturbing.

"Don't worry about it, Harry-chan, I'll have someone take care of it. Could you just put it in a bag for me, pretty please?"

The sight of him batting his eyelashes was just disturbing, as was his instance on using a Japanese suffix, especially one Harry was fairly sure was for girls. Who used Japanese in the middle of Italy? Harry chose not to assume that Lussuria actually meant to call him a girl as he dumped the clothes in a plastic bag, and then in another to make sure nothing leaked. In the war, his allies had mocked his girly looks once. Just once. Everyone agreed afterwards that McLaggen wasn't worth wasting the healing potions on, and the broken jaw healed fine without them anyway. Eventually. Mostly. If it made it a little harder for the obnoxious teen to talk, who was complaining?

With Lussuria's clothes sorted, Harry turned back to his customer. Except for his hair, he was pretty much clean now, and redressing himself in a uniform that was identical to the first. Minus the bloodstains, to Harry's relief. That meant it was time to get to his actual job.

"So what do you want doing with your hair today?" After the incredibly unusual start to the appointment, it felt almost surreal to fall back on the standard lines.

"I need this mess cleaning. And restyling. Can you even up the mess that little monster made?"

Harry couldn't tell what the damage might be under all of the blood, but he was sure that he could work something out. As he smiled and reassured Lussuria (Lust? Really? As fake names went, it wasn't even subtle, and he didn't want to think about what the man had done to earn it), he ran through his options in his head. He would rather stick with muggle options, but he would probably have to use a potion to clean the blood out. Muggle shampoo just wasn't designed to deal with that level of filth. It was a good thing he wasn't squeamish anymore, because he was fairly sure that there was some brain tissue stuck in Lussuria's hair. The man shouldn't notice that he was using a potion instead of normal hair product - it was in a generic shampoo bottle. And restyling the hair shouldn't be a problem, no matter what the crazy prince had done to it. He couldn't see any major damage through the muck coating the hair, so it couldn't be too bad.

Harry got Lussuria settled in a chair and prepared to wash his hair.

"I don't need to see you to kill you, you know," the man warned as he took off his glasses. His tone was joking, but Harry had no doubt that he was deadly serious. The blood drenching him had been a hint that the man might be dangerous, although nowhere near as dangerous as Harry himself. His Gryffindor curiosity was burning him fiercely about these people, and only his Slytherin survival instincts were keeping his mouth shut. The war had taught him to temper his curiosity with caution, and he got the feeling that knowing more about these people would cause him more problems than he wanted to deal with.

"I'm sure. I have a shampoo that will clean the blood out. It's a lot gentler than peroxide, but it will still remove the colour of the dye, leaving the hair its natural brunet. Would you like me to leave it like that, or to re-dye your hair today? I have quite a few greens to choose from, or other colours if you feel like a change. Perhaps a nice bright yellow?"

Harry wasn't quite sure why he recommended yellow, instead of more common hair dyes like blue or purple. Yellow wouldn't take well on brunet hair anyway. To get a nice bright yellow, he would have to bleach the hair first, which Lussuria had already said he didn't want. The suggestion seemed to be a bad move, given the way Lussuria stiffened.

"Why yellow?" His voice was completely serious, no trilling or flirting. The contrast was startling, and disconcerting.

"For your sunny personality? If you don't think that it would suit you, there are a lot of other colours to choose from." Harry tried to placate the suddenly intimidating customer, hoping to smooth over whatever offence he had inadvertently caused. Truthfully, he was regretting offering the dye, but yellow just seemed to be so much Lussuria's colour that he had suggested it without thinking. He wasn't sure why. The man wasn't wearing any yellow, and he hadn't been the last time Harry had seen him either.

"I'll stick with green, thank you Harry-chan." Although the flamboyant persona was back, the man didn't relax as Harry finished washing his hair and the last of the pink (and disturbingly lumpy) water washed down the drain. Harry had to resist the urge to offer a massage, his muscles were so tensely knotted. Although, given the way his last offer had gone across, he was probably better off keeping his mouth shut.

Harry tried to figure out his mistake as he dried Lussuria's hair. Did the man not like yellow? It wasn't a common colour for hair dye, but the man was the furthest thing from conventional Harry had ever seen, so Harry hadn't thought he'd find the idea offensive. Maybe he was just attached to the green? Or did he think it meant that Harry hadn't been listening when he said he didn't want it bleached? Whatever it was, Harry hoped the man got over it soon. He was sure he could take the man, even with his wand in his bag in the back room, but he still found the man's dangerous aura unsettling.

Lussuria's hair was quite short, so it didn't take long to dry. Now that it was clean, Harry could see where the front part of his fringe had been cut off. If this had been done by the teenage prince's knives, the man was lucky not to have lost an eye. Lucky or skilled. Dodging was probably a required skill for entrance into whatever they were involved in, given that it involved working with homicidal teenagers and murdering people in bloody ways. Strangely, it was the fact that they provided a uniform that bothered Harry most. Or perhaps not so strangely. It meant that whatever Lussuria was involved in, it was organised. That made it far more of a threat than a few lone weirdos, and solidified Harry's desire to have nothing to do with them at all.

Harry quickly got to work evening out the hair, trimming and reshaping the fringe slightly rather than removing length from the whole thing. The front of the fringe had been longer than the rest originally, so it wasn't as hard as he had feared it would be. Once he had finished, he left Lussuria cooing at the result in the mirror while he went to fetch the book of dye colours. He could feel Lussuria's eyes on him, and he had no doubt the man was watching him using the mirror. That meant he didn't want to duck into the back room and grab his wand; it would only make the man suspicious. Besides, Lussuria hadn't made any threatening moves, and seemed pleased with the work Harry had done. Sometimes the ingrained paranoia was a pain, although he wasn't surprised the strange killer was setting off every instinct he had. That relaxing bath he had been planning on was calling to him. He would have to indulge himself no matter how late he got home, unless he wanted to be a twitchy wreck tomorrow.

Lussuria quickly picked out the emerald green colour that he wanted and Harry applied it using quick, neat brushstrokes. Compared to complicated spellwork, this was child's play. His habitual use of magic prevented it dripping or smearing onto Lussuria's skin or the shaved part of his head. It also meant that the developing time was cut in half compared to muggle dyes, so it wasn't long before he was rinsing the dye out, drying the hair again, and styling the fringe with muggle products to give it the volume that Lussuria asked for. When he'd finished, Lussuria was declaring his new look 'absolutely fabulous, Harry-chan, you're a miracle worker!'

As Harry turned to lead the man to the desk to pay, he felt a blinding pain in the back of his head. He collapsed to the floor, stunned. The world went black for a second, and when he came to Lussuria was kneeling over him with a syringe in hand. His legs were pinned in place by Lussuria's knees, and his wrists were held above his head in a bruising grip by one of Lussuria's hands. He realised that he had been foolish to discount Lussuria's physical strength and tried desperately to call on his magic to protect him, but it responded sluggishly and erratically. He heard a window shatter just before he felt the needle pierce the skin of his arm. His body suddenly felt like it was made of lead. His raised head fell back to the floor, smacking against the tiles. He couldn't even scream, he couldn't control his breathing, there wasn't enough air in his lungs. His dry eyes stared as Lussuria's hand came into his field of vision, and the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 20/8/15


	4. Return to Headquarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lussuria brings Harry back to Headquarters. Squalo is not amused.

_Squalo was going to be so loud_ , Lussuria thought regretfully as he hauled the limp body out of the car and into the castle. He was so light! Was the poor thing not eating properly? If Harry-chan survived the next few days, Lussuria would change that, of course. He wouldn't stand for any of his ducklings not eating properly, even if it meant cooking for them himself. They were all such picky eaters! He still had nightmares about the week that Bel had decided he wouldn't eat anything other than sushi. Squalo had demolished half the mansion chasing after the silly Prince, after he taunted the Captain about eating his relatives. Compared to that, feeding the boy would easy. Besides, no matter how bad he was, the boy couldn't possibly be any fussier that Boss had been. Lussuria shook his head clear. He had explanations to prepare before he ran into the Captain.

Of course, luck just wasn’t on his side. Squalo was standing in the entryway as he walked in, leaning against a wall and tapping his fingers against his mechanical arm.

“Voi!” he bellowed as soon as he caught sight of Lussuria. “Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to be back hours ago!”

“Sorry, Squ-chan!” Lussuria trilled. “I got a little distracted with-“

“Voi!” Squalo interrupted. “Who the hell is that?” He had just caught sight of the cute hairdresser slung over Lussuria’s shoulder, with a scarf tied round his eyes and headphones over his ears.

“Don’t you recognise cute little Harry-chan? Bel ruined my hair this morning, and then I got blood matted in it during the mission, so I had to get it sorted out before I got back. That mess wasn’t Quality at all.” Sometimes invoking Quality was enough to calm Squalo down. Not today.

“Why is he here? I said we weren’t going to touch him until Mammon had a chance to investigate! Why the hell did you think that bringing a potentially hostile unknown to Headquarters was a good idea? Has that hair dye rotted your brain?”

“That was uncalled for!” Lussuria snapped. He was proud of his hair. Squalo looked unimpressed.

“Let me get him secure first,” Lussuria said. “The muscle relaxant was calculated for a small fifteen year old, not for an adult.”

Squalo huffed, but acknowledged the sense in what he was saying. He turned on his heel and strode back into the mansion, hair flying like a banner before him. Lussuria took the opportunity to ogle the Captain’s behind as he followed him to the Officer’s wing. He might be loud, fussy, and utterly devoted to another man, but that didn’t stop Squalo from being utterly delicious.

Lussuria was a little surprised that Squalo wanted to stash their little guest in the Cloud Officer’s room, though. They had perfectly adequate dungeons and interrogation rooms. Nevertheless, he laid the young man carefully on the bed, making sure the scarf stayed in place and the headphones stayed on. He wasn’t unconscious, after all, and Lussuria didn’t want him to see or hear anything he shouldn’t. Squalo located the handcuffs and chains that came with every Varia bedroom, and secured Evans to the bed, wrists and ankles locked tightly to the solid steel bedframe. Lussuria had felt the man’s strength when he subdued him; there was no way he would be able to get himself free even if he could ignore the head injury and shake off the drug that was keeping him immobile.

Squalo phoned for a Rain Squad member to watch the man and let them know if he woke up, before striding back out the room and leading the way to his own, just down the hall. He gestured for Lussuria to sit in the only chair, before leaning against the wall and raising an eyebrow, obviously waiting for Lussuria to explain.

“I may have had a little too much fun with that cute bodyguard,” Lussuria admitted. “My hair was so filthy! Last time it got so messy, it took a week to get it back to normal. And Bel cut it! I had to get it neatened up, it was an embarrassment. I couldn't think of another hairdresser that would deal with it."

“Why were you fighting with Bel anyway?” Squalo asked, momentarily side-tracked.

“I needed one of his knives for the mission. You know how precious that boy is about his things. I did ask at Weapons Development, but they didn’t have any spares. Bel threw one at me – the one that cut my gorgeous hair – and I took it with me.”

Squalo sighed, well-used to his co-workers’ antics by now, and gestured for Lussuria to continue.

"You didn't see him, Squ-chan! He didn't even flinch at all the blood covering my fabulous uniform. And besides, he was taunting me! A civilian shouldn't know about Flames."

"He knows about flames?" Squalo was suddenly focussed. Even among the Mafia, information about Flames was closely guarded. If Evans somehow knew about them, then that combined with his false background could make him very dangerous indeed.

"He suggested yellow hair dye to match my 'sunny personality'. Yellow isn’t a common hair dye, Squ-chan. More than that, it’s incredibly difficult to get good results with yellow dye on brown hair, and only a complete amateur would recommend it to a brunet that hadn’t specifically asked for it. He took a teasing threat as a genuine warning – you know that civilians don’t have the sense to be threatened – and he didn’t even have the courtesy to be scared!” Lussuria pouted. He prided himself on his ability to be both fabulous and threatening. “He wasn’t upset, disgusted or even disconcerted by the blood and tissue on my uniform and hair." Lussuria winced slightly at the thought of how much Mammon would charge for replacing the uniform.

“So you decided that kidnapping him was the best option?” Squalo still sounded irritated, but no longer murderous. He sat down on the bed, so that he was no longer looming over Lussuria.

“I may have been a little hasty, but it seemed like the only way to be safe. If he was a threat, we couldn’t take the risk of him getting spooked and running back to his employers, could we Squ-chan?”

“Voi! Stop it with the nickname!” Squalo bellowed.

Lussuria breathed a sigh of relief. If he was irritated with a little thing like that, he was no longer in his dangerous Captain mode.

“How did you take him down?” Squalo asked.

“A blow to the head to stun him, and a syringe full of muscle relaxant to keep him. I closed his eyes so he couldn’t see anything, tied my scarf around his head to make sure, and put my headphones on him so he couldn’t hear. I hope he likes Lady Gaga,” Lussuria smirked as Squalo winced. He knew that the Captain would rather take Bel clothes shopping than listen to Lady Gaga.

“His eyes are gorgeous, you know. If we need to get rid of him, can I keep them?”

Squalo ignored him with the ease of practice. No one asked for clarification when Lussuria mentioned his fetishes. The last recruit to have tried it had retired the next day. Given that a Varia retirement involved a bullet in the head, it had discouraged everyone else from asking questions. Lussuria pouted a little that Squalo refused to rise the bait, but he didn’t push it. The hairdresser was the important thing at the moment.

“Voi!” Squalo roared suddenly, making Lussuria jump. “Where did you get the drug from in the first place? You were only supposed to take one with you, and it should have been used for the mission.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Lussuria winced. “The boy committed suicide before I could get to him,” he admitted. He hurried on at Squalo’s scowl. “His bodyguards were tougher than I expected, Squ-chan! I may have gotten a teensy bit distracted by one of them – you would have too, his muscles were just divine! – and by the time I’d finished, the boy had cut his own throat. Guess he knew what was coming.”

Squalo sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Did you at least finish the mission?”

“Of course, Squalo!” Lussuria was offended. “His corpse is nicely mangled, but still recognisable. The throat slash just looks like part of the pattern. Bel’s knife did the job wonderfully.”

The Varia didn’t skimp on equipment, even the custom things like his knee and Squalo’s sword-hand. Bel’s knives were no exception. The Prince designed them himself, and they could cut through solid steel. They were the Varia; the law was their bitch. The laws of Physics were no exception.

“Still,” Squalo said with a vindictive smile. “You didn’t fulfil the brief completely, which means you’ll be marked down. Looks like Bel will be winning this month’s Paint the Walls Challenge.”

Paint The Walls meant a mission where killing as messily and obviously as possibly was the goal. Bel and Lussuria were the only Officers who actually enjoyed missions like that, and they competed to see who could make the most grotesque scene. The competition had started as unofficial bragging over their kills, but had slowly morphed into a genuine contest. It was as close as the Varia came to healthy competition. Squalo, Levi and Mammon scored each assassination from photos the Varia member took of the scene. Bel normally scored more points for creative kills and originality, where Lussuria was an expert at displaying the bodies and sheer brutality. Before the mission today, Bel had been just slightly in the lead. Lussuria knew that his screw-up would put him so far behind there was no chance he would be able to catch up. Bel would be even more insufferable then normal. Lussuria resigned himself to tidying the Prince’s room or baking him cake or whatever he came up with a penalty, as well as paying the fee for Mammon’s judging. It wouldn’t a contest if there wasn’t a forfeit for the loser, after all.

Squalo laughed obnoxiously at the dismay on Lussuria’s face. Lussuria knew that the Captain didn’t care all that much about the contest except that it kept Bel happy and entertained, and it gave Lussuria an outlet for some of his more disturbing urges. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the misery of the loser. Lussuria normally made Bel model clothes for him, something that Bel professed to hate but not-so-secretly enjoyed. If Lussuria was in a particularly petty mood, he made Bel do laundry for him. The first time, Bel had dyed everything pink by accident. Lussuria had known it was an accident by the almighty tantrum Bel had thrown when Levi accused him of doing it on purpose. Spoiled Bel might be, but he honoured the rules of the Varia, both official and unspoken.

Lussuria was just about to snap at Squalo when he heard the Captain’s phone ring.

“Voi!” Squalo yelled, probably deafening the poor person on the other end. He listened for a moment before snapping the phone closed and turning to Lussuria.

“The hairdresser is waking up. You said you hit his head?”

Lussuria nodded.

“Call a medic, have them on standby for after our little talk with our guest.”

Lussuria made the call, letting the medic on duty know the situation, before he followed Squalo out of the room and down the hall. Depending on how the talk went, the medic might not be needed. Dead men didn’t need doctors.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 02/09/15


	5. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up chained to a bed with his head pounding. The loud blond is not helping.

Harry woke up with a pounding headache. Absently, he rubbed his forehead. Or rather, he tried to. All the fog vanished from his mind as his wrist was jerked to a halt by the shackle chaining him to the bed. Why was he on a bed? He had been at the salon. Had he been kidnapped again? He resisted the urge to groan aloud. He had moved to Italy to get away from things like this.

"Voi! I know you're awake, trash!" The voice was obscenely loud, and his head throbbed in protest. Harry swore that he could feel the echoes of the shout reverberating around the inside of his skull

It was also familiar. Harry turned his head, very carefully, towards the source of the noise. His entire head throbbed in agony at the movement, and he hissed. Was he concussed? His thinking was disordered, and he couldn't pull together an explanation for what had happened. There was only one way to find out. Gritting his teeth, he opened his eyes, slamming them closed at the bright light.

"Look at me!" Again, the familiar voice.

"If you don't stop shouting, I am going superglue your mouth shut," Harry growled. He was not in a mood to cooperate, and the voice that was trying to liquidate his brain wasn't helping.

There was a giggle. That was familiar. A face flashed through his mind. Sunglasses, green hair. Lussuria. Right. He had turned his back like some firstie, assuming that anonymity kept him safe, that there was nothing a muggle could do to him before he had a chance to draw his wand. Moody was probably turning in his grave.

"Do you want to tell us why you're here, Harry-chan?" Lussuria cooed. The high-pitched voice felt like someone was taking a cheese grater to his brain, but that was a step up from feeling like it was being disintegrated, so he would take it over Shouty.

"Because one of customers decided to kidnap me." When in doubt, be a smartass.

"We just have some questions for you, Harry-chan. You want to help us, don't you?"

"Sure. Help. Of course, helping the people who chained me to a bed is my very first priority." Harry could hear Shouty growling, and imagined him grinding his teeth with the effort to keep quiet. It was a good image.

"Right then! What's your name?"

"Harry Evans," Harry said, before he was cut off.

"Voi! Don't even try it! We know that background is as fake as Lussuria's hair colour. Try again."

"Why do you want to know?" Harry was getting the feeling that he was in over his head. He should have shoved his curiosity back into its box and left Italy the first time he met these people. He knew that they were trouble – the twelve year old threw knives, for Merlin's sake! How much of a hint did he need? Hermione had told him that bad things happened when Slytherin curiosity and Gryffindor bravery combined.

"No one is that comfortable around knives and blood with the experience your profile says you have. You're lying about something. If you can't explain what, I'm afraid we can't let you leave this room," Lussuria told him.

They were willing to talk, and he was in a bedroom instead of a dungeon. They had answered his question, and they hadn't started torture or anything. Harry got the feeling that for these people, this was civil. He didn't know whether to find that thought reassuring or terrifying.

"I was in the middle of the terrorist attacks in Britain. I lead a group of rebels. I saved the daughter of someone very important, so after the fighting ended, they created a false identity for me. I moved to Italy and became a hair dresser." Harry gave the entirely truthful, and very watered-down, version of events.

"Can't you give us any more details than that? Who did you save? What was your name before you changed it? Why Italy? You can't just leave us with half a story!" Lussuria demanded

Actually, Harry would have been quite happy leaving them with the abridged version. Still, he elaborated. "I saved the daughter of a wealthy businessman who had political connections. I only communicated through the daughter, for both our comfort and safety, and I'm almost sure that the name she gave me was fake anyway. Before I changed my name, I was Harry Potter. I chose Italy because Italian was the only language other than English that I spoke."

Harry was uncomfortably aware of both his watchers scrutinising his face as he spoke. He had no doubt that they would pick up on a lie, and he was grateful that his story was entirely muggle-friendly. The problem was if they went digging into Harry Potter's history, and found the gaps there.

"Can you open your eyes for me, Harry-chan?" Lussuria trilled, back to high-pitched fabulousness. It would have been reassuring if it hadn't been so painful.

Harry pried his eyes open. The light wasn't so overwhelming this time. His eyes felt nasty and sore. He really needed to change his contact lenses.

Shouty grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, so that Harry was forced to look into his eyes. Harry yelped in pain as his eyes watered.

"Are you Flame-active?"

What the Hell? Flame what? What did flames have to do with anything? His confusion must have been obvious – Moody really would be furious if he was that easy to read just because of a headache and possibly concussion – because Shouty scoffed and let go of his hair, relieving the awful pressure on his scalp.

"So it was a fluke. Too bad for you."

That didn't sound good. Harry tensed. The magic he could cast without his wand in his hand was painfully limited, but there had to be something he could do. This would be a really embarrassing way to die.

"Don't scare him, Squa-Squa!" Lussuria chimed in before Harry could commit to a course of action. "What Squalo means is that you know about us now, and it would ruin our reputation to let you go now, wouldn't it, hmm?"

"I don't know anything!" Harry was confused, and irritated. The grin on Lussuria's face suggested that he found that amusing.

"Aren't you a feisty one! And if you don't know anything, we'll just have to explain." Squalo interrupted him before he could continue.

"Voi! You're wasting time, trash. Listen up," Squalo addressed Harry. "We're the Varia. We're assassins. Cross us, and you die. You're now our full-time hairdresser. We'll set you up with a contract and everything. Congratulations."

"Okay. I'm your hairdresser. Anything else while we're here?" This was a shock. Now that he was more or less certain that there was no immediate danger, he really just wanted an hour or two to process. His head was ringing and throbbing, his wrists hurt and it was hard to focus on anything.

"Now that you mention it," the grin that Squalo gave him was pure evil, "Bel needs an adult role model in his life. Someone who can make sure he eats rights, goes to his lessons, who isn't intimidated by him. Thank you for volunteering."

Harry hated him. So, so much. And slamming his head back onto the bed not only failed to express his exasperation, it made his headache flare back to life, in all its vicious glory. Wonderful.


	6. Meet Prince Bel (again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets his new charge. Squalo is going to regret this.

After being untied and given a glass of water, I was feeling a little better. I couldn't do any magic at the moment, even if I had been alone instead of watched like a hawk by my two kidnappers – now employers? – because head injuries made magic behave erratically. If I tried to disapparate now, I'd be lucky if I only splinched myself. My only option was to see how this played out. If I was honest, I was kind of curious. My calm life had been getting a little dull, and I hadn't realised how much I missed the craziness.

"Voi! We'll just send Bel in to you, then," Squalo declared with another evil grin, once he'd decided that I'd had had enough time to recover.

The two of them left me alone in the bedroom, but I wasn't stupid to think that it was anything but a trap. I knew that if I made a move that was even remotely suspicious or threatening, I would be lucky if I was just chained back to the bed. And when I put it like that, it sounded kind of wrong. Why did they have chains in the bedrooms anyway?

Steering my mind away from that train of thought, I tried to come up with a plan. 'Roll with it' was as much as I had – any plans with more detail had a knack of being rather spectacularly derailed. I still shuddered whenever I remembered Teddy's first birthday party. Hermione couldn't look me in the eye for two months afterwards.

I put the glass of water down on the bedside table as I heard voices approaching the room. I had thought that it would take them longer to get back to him; apparently the blond prince was more cooperative than he had seemed back at the salon. He hadn't struck me as someone who would appreciate being given a babysitter, especially a civilian hairdresser.

"Just meet him, Bel-chan, maybe you'll get along!" Lussuria was coaxing as the door opened. Not so cooperative, then.

The prince was pouting. "Why does the prince have to listen to a civilian? I am a Varia Officer, not a child." He seemed genuinely offended, and a little hurt. Squalo, who had entered the room after the two, didn't help.

"Voi! You are a child, brat!" I could see why they needed help dealing with Bel, because Squalo obviously had no clue.

In a second, Bel had a fan of knives in both hands. I decided to jump in before they could start fighting. I didn't trust any of them to remember that there was a helpless civilian with a head injury in the room once they got started.

"Your Captain thinks that he isn't good enough to be a role model for you, so he needed outside help. Apparently, he feels that he's so deficient that even a civilian like me would do better." Yes, I did get a great deal of satisfaction from that. Squalo deserved it.

The prince turned to face me, the knives disappearing. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had no way of defending myself without revealing magic to them, and even with magic they moved so fast that I would probably be dead before I could draw my wand.

Squalo was turning purple. It seemed like he couldn't decide who he wanted to shout at most. Lussuria had no such problem, and was collapsed on a chair, cackling hysterically to himself. I hoped that Squalo's shock lasted until I was out of the room. It would be a shame to avert death by knives to be killed by the blond with truly awful hair. One good thing about being hired as the hairdresser would be being able to do something about it, if only if so that I didn't have to look at it any more.

"Ushishishi, well, if the Captain is feeling insecure, I suppose I can humour him. Come along, peasant, and I'll show you the base. Go out of bounds, and I'll paint the walls with your blood." Bel warned me with a wide grin.

The kid was twisted, but kind of adorable. I decided to treat him like I would one of the more psychotic DA. They had seen too much to be children, or to enjoy being coddled, but they weren't quite adults. Some of them had more damaged by the year trapped at Hogwarts than others. Dennis Creevy still wasn't allowed out in public, because he had a habit of sending rather vicious hexes at anyone wearing the colour green.

I climbed slowly off the bed, gripping the bed frame for balance as my head spun. I was definitely concussed. Bel was actually waiting patiently for me. I must have impressed him. Or just amused him. Once I reached his side, he grabbed my hand and tugged me out the room, shutting the door in Squalo's face just as he opened his mouth.

"He's going to kill me for saying that," I commented, as his yells echoed down the halls, barely muffled at all by the shut door.

"Ushishishi, why did you antagonise him? He's much stronger than you," Bel asked. His giggle really was disturbing.

"Because he kidnapped me, and thinks that I'll jump to do his bidding." An evil though occurred to me.

"Prince Bel," I started slowly. He turned to me, his grin matching the one spreading over my face. "Squalo seems to think that me looking after you is a good idea. He thinks that we'll both just smile and go along with him. How long do you think it will take to make him regret his presumption?"


	7. Plots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bel shows off and Mammon does some research.

By the end of the day, Bel had shown me round the entire mansion, and sent a minion to fetch my stuff from my apartment. I made a note to ask Lussuria whether he’d locked up the salon when he’d left. I didn’t think that he was the sort of person who would overlook the little details like that, but it was best to be sure. The insurance wouldn’t cover theft if the door was unlocked and no one was in, and I didn’t think ‘I was kidnapped by assassins’ was an adequate excuse. Poor, high-strung Alberto must have panicked when he’d come back and realised that I’d vanished. I needed to talk to Squalo about getting in touch with him to reassure him that I was OK before he tried something drastic, like getting the police involved. I didn’t think the Varia would take kindly to that.

I had made a point of asking the minion to fetch anything that looked even remotely like a hair care product, which meant the poor man had over two hundred bottles to transport. There were a couple in particular that I would need for my vengeance against the shouty Captain. And of course, if I was going to be the Varia’s hairdresser, I was going to do it properly. No way was I using whatever inferior stuff they’d been making do with. Lussuria was the only one who seemed to know anything about taking care of hair properly.

“Belphegor!” I called from the bed. I had become dizzy after spending an hour walking round the house and memorising the layout, and Bel had panicked when I almost fell over. He had ushered me back to bed and sent a minion for food. It was cute, watching him flutter about like Mrs Weasley with unexpected guests. We had picnicked in bed while plotting our vengeance, before he left to fetch his weapons from his room. He said there was a wire trick he’d just mastered that he wanted to show me. The proud tone of his voice was sort of adorable, if I ignored the fact that he was talking about methods of murder instead of test scores, or something else normal for twelve year olds. As long as I didn’t try to act like an authority figure, Bel was amazingly compliant and eager to please. I figured that he was still intrigued with me. I intended to take advantage of that before he got bored with me. 

“What?” he said, ambling into the room with a fan of knives in each hand.

“Will you need me to distract Squalo while you switch the bottles?”

“Ushishishi! I could do that in my sleep,” he assured me, flinging the knives seemingly randomly into the walls. I stayed very still in the middle of the bed. The Varia had no problem with giving twelve year olds lethal weapons. I suppose I couldn’t complain; Hogwarts gave them out at eleven.

“Great! And as your mentor and role model, I should teach you some of my skills, right?”

“What skills would a civilian peasant have that could benefit a Prince?” he asked scornfully, sounding like Malfoy.

“‘Civilian’ skills like being able to cook and clean for yourself means that you aren’t reliant on anyone else. Having to eat substandard food because you’re missing a vital skill isn’t Varia Quality.” I had heard a lot about Varia Quality in the last few hours.

“I don’t rely on anyone!” he sounded honestly offended.

“You rely on other people to cook and clean for you. Being able to do it yourself will give you more freedom and control. But that wasn’t the skill I was talking about. How would you like to learn hairdressing? I think we’ll have a volunteer for you to practice on tomorrow.”

I watched the already present grin spread even wider as he showed me how he could direct multiple knives down the wires, creating a shining blur of movement around the room.

 

Mammon sighed to herself as she sorted through the information the incompetent (and now deceased) Varia member had acquired on Harry Evans. It was all true, but there were such massive holes in it that it was worthless. She would charge Squalo double for making her fix his subordinate’s mistakes. This was disgraceful by any standards, let alone for the Varia. Going through the information she had on the recent conflict in England, which was the likely reason the intriguing new acquisition had such ingrained reflexes and interesting responses, she paused.

The photo was of a teenager, petit with black hair and green eyes. He wore ugly glasses and looked very uncomfortable in his formal robes. At first glance, he was irrelevant to her current search. But looking closer, she saw the similarities. The hair and eye colour were the same, although the glasses were gone and the hair was sleek and shoulder length now. The biggest change was body language. The boy in the photo was hunched inward, defensive and wary. Evans was proud and confident. Still, they were definitely the same person. 

Harry James Potter. What information did she have on him? He was a Wizard, which automatically made this a lot more complicated. The rest of the Varia didn’t have the clearance to know about magic, so she would have to doctor the report. Sighing, she set about compiling the relevant documents so that she could provide the relevant information without revealing anything classified. She was not paid enough for this.


	8. Tangles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Bel get revenge. Mammon makes plans.

The next morning Harry was woken up by shrieking. It wasn’t long before Bel rushed into his room, giggling madly. Harry squinted at him, just managing to make out his face.

“I take it worked, then?” Harry mumbled, still half asleep. He caught the blurred outline of the prince nodding frantically, before he flung himself onto the bed next to him.  
“He looks like Levi messed up with his static, only worse! How long will it take for him to comb it out?” he asked.

“He can’t. It’ll stay like that until I use the right shampoo. How long do you think it’ll take him to ask for it?” Bel had told him how precious Squalo was about his hair, so he wondered how long it would take for him to admit defeat.

“Ushishishi! He’ll be begging by this evening,” Bel told him confidently.

“Great. I have time to sleep in then.” Harry closed his eyes, fully determined to get at least another two hours of sleep. Bel obviously had other plans.

“Get up! I need breakfast, and you told me that you wanted to learn how to throw knives, and I have that stupid peasant schoolwork to do, and Squalo won’t leave his rooms today so Levi will be in charge, and he’s a pain if he thinks I’m slacking, because he thinks I’m too young, even though I’m better than he is, stupid peasant, and Lussuria told me that he’d buy me new boots if I tidied my room.”

Harry’s head was spinning. He didn’t think that Bel had breathed once through that whole diatribe. It was too early for this.

“Bel.” Harry’s tone was firm enough to make Bel stop bouncing on the bed and turn to look at him. Or Harry thought he was looking at him. With his hair over his eyes, and without his glasses, it was hard to tell. “It is five O’clock in the morning. It is too early to get up. I am going to sleep for another hour and then I will get up.”

“Fine.” By the tone of his voice, Bel was pouting. “Can I stay here with you then?”

“Fine. Just be quiet.”

With a quiet giggle, Bel dived beneath the covers and cuddled up to Harry, who threw an arm over him loosely and closed his eyes with a sigh. He drifted off to sleep with a  
thousand memories in his head, of doing this with a hundred different child soldiers who couldn’t express with words how much they needed reassurance.

According to his inner clock – developed at the Dursleys and refined by war – it was exactly an hour later that Bel woke him up by tugging his arm harshly. 

“Come on! Breakfast!”

Harry barely had time to grab his glasses from the bedside table before he was dragged out of the room. The minion had brought his contacts as well his glasses from his apartment the previous day, but Bel wasn’t giving Harry any time to mess around.

After a full English breakfast, which impressed Bel and drew Lussuria and another Officer, who introduced himself as Levi, into the kitchen, Harry was dragged out again by Bel. His inner neat freak cringed at the idea of leaving all the dirty dishes just sitting in the kitchen. Knowing his luck, they would still be sitting there come dinner.

He spent the morning being dragged around by Bel. He thought the permanent-sugar-rush was supposed to end by the time they were ten! Twelve-year-olds should be wanting to laze around, not moaning because advanced algebra was too easy, and trying to invent a way to have two dozen knives in the air at once, and manipulate them all with his wires. By lunch he was exhausted, and forced Bel to sit down and eat something. Lussuria was there too, making a sandwich.

“Have you seen Squalo today? I haven’t seen him at all, and I don’t know what he was screaming about this morning,” Lussuria asked absently. Harry shuddered as he watched the flamboyant man smother his jam sandwich with hot sauce. Some things just shouldn’t exist.

“Ushishishi! The prince hasn’t seen him,” Bel declared innocently. Lussuria shot him a piercing glance.

“Of course you haven’t, dear. Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“No idea!” Bel sang, as he danced across the kitchen collecting the ingredients Harry asked for. Literally danced, complete with pirouettes. The kid was weird.

A dozen eggs-worth of omelettes later, Bel was begrudgingly helping Harry wash up when a minion dashed into the room. By the patch on his uniform, Harry could tell that he was one of the Rain Squad, and suppressed a grin.

“The Captain would like to see you, sir,” the man said, standing at attention.

“Of course,” Harry replied, rinsing off the last plate and handing it to Bel to dry and put away. “Come on, Bel.”

“The Captain asked for just you, sir,” the minion insisted.

“But he put Bel in my care. I would hate to neglect my duty,” Harry told him. Stepping past the gaping minion, Harry and Bel made their way up to Squalo’s room, which was two doors down from Harry’s.

All the Officer’s rooms were on their own corridor. The Sky was at the end, with the Rain on its right and the sun on its left. Next to the Rain was the Mist, and then the Lightning. Next to the Sun was the Storm, and then the Cloud. It meant that Harry actually knew where to find Squalo’s room, which would have been a lot harder if they were spread out all over the mansion.

Harry knocked briskly on the door before pushing it open. Squalo yelled to him from the ensuite bathroom, but Harry wanted to get a look at the room before he got distracted. The room was done up in shades with blue, with a floor to ceiling bookcase taking up an entire wall. Other than that, the room wasn’t much different than his. There was a lamp on his bedside table, and a small figurine of a horse, but they were the only personal touches. There were no knickknacks or ornaments on the bookcases, only neat rows of books, none of which looked to be fiction.

“Voi!” Squalo yelled from the bathroom. “Are you coming?”

Harry grinned as he strolled through the bathroom door, Bel at his shoulder. “What seems to be the problem?”

Squalo spun round and glared at them.

“Voi! Brat, what the hell did you do to my hair?” At that, Bel lost his battle with laughter, setting Harry off as well.

He tried to fight it, but Squalo just looked to ridiculous. His hair looked the most extreme case of bed hair ever. It was tangled and knotted, with parts of it standing on end. Normally half-way down his back, it was so knotted that there wasn’t a single strand that managed to reach past his shoulders. It was kind of like the world’s messiest afro, with hair brush bristles and comb teeth visible.

“Fix this!” Squalo shrieked. “I’m not cutting it!” Harry was alarmed to see the glimmer of tears in his eyes. Maybe he had been too harsh?

He had been kidnapped, tied up, given a head injury but no medical attention, and been roped into being a babysitter. This was completely justified.

“I can fix this, don’t worry,” Harry soothed him. As he started the shower running, he spoke to Bel over his shoulder.

“Could you go and fetch me the shampoo and conditioner? They’re in the blue bottles.”

As Bel trotted off, still giggling, Harry tested the temperature of the water. Finding it satisfactory, he had Squalo sit on the edge of the bath, so that he could wash his hair. It was always so awkward doing this. Harry had yet to find a completely comfortable way to wash someone’s hair without the proper hairdresser setup.

“I’ve already tried that,” Squalo growled at him, even as he leant backwards slightly.

“I know. My shampoo will work miracles, seriously. Don’t worry about it,” Harry told him, as he soaked his hair.

Bel came skipping back into the room with the bottles Harry had shown him last night when they had devised their plan. Now he was thinking that this might be overkill. Not enough to stop, but still.

It only took five minutes to work the shampoo through the mess, and another five to rinse it out. The hair was slightly less knotted, but not much. Once he had dried the hair to the point where it only slightly damp, he worked the conditioner through, which took half an hour. Through it all, Bel sat in the corner giggling to himself, and Squalo was amazingly patient. He didn’t even complain when Harry pulled the hair trying to get the more stubborn knots out. Eventually, the knotted mess was a smooth fall down his back, thick with the conditioner. Harry gathered it up and swirled it up so it was piled on top of Squalo’s head. He was relying on the amount of conditioner to hold it in place, which he knew it would.

“Leave that in for half an hour, and then rinse it out,” he told the blond, as he led the prince out of the bathroom.

“Voi! Once I find out how you did it, scum…” Squalo let the threat trail off menacingly, and suddenly Harry didn’t feel guilty.

Bel burst into giggles as soon as they were back in Harry’s room.

“Ushishishi! So how does it work?” he asked

“The condition has a special dye in it. It looks white, until it’s activated. It turns bright pink when it’s wet enough. The dye lasts for a week,” Harry grinned at Bel.

Half an hour later, for the second time that day, a furious ‘VOI!’ echoed through the mansion.

Mammon ignored the commotion in the mansion. She couldn’t hear any crashes, so there were no repairs she would have to pay for, which meant it wasn’t important. She had another issue to deal with. It had been a while since Mammon had thought about the Wizards. She knew about them, of course, and kept half and eye on them, but they tended to keep to themselves, especially the British. She had heard about the war going on in England, but had ignored it. It had been when Boss had been planning his coup, which took up all of everyone’s time. An unforgiveable oversight in retrospect. Harry Potter was an influential figure, with the potential to cause a lot of problems. The Mafia and the Wizards were separate for a reason. A conflict between them could level the entire country. She needed a way to control Potter if he became dangerous. Keeping him on their side was much better than making him an enemy, though, so she didn’t want to alienate him. He was rumoured to be one of the wealthiest Wizards in England, so keeping him accessible and amenable was a very good thing.

A pile of paper appeared on her desk in a flash of purple flame. Even her English Wizarding contact knew better than to use parchment. It cost three times as much per square meter as paper did. She hummed to herself as she flicked through the pages. This was interesting. It was a weakness that she didn’t want to have to exploit, but the option was good. Having insurance was always a good thing when dealing with powerful, influential figures. She would have to have Levi send some of his people out. Something as important as this shouldn’t be trusted to anyone not Varia Quality.


	9. Photos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The status quo is thoroughly disrupted.

A couple of days later, Squalo forced Levi into a chair in front of Harry, just as he was finishing his breakfast.

"Voi! Do the asshole's hair. Whatever you want," he snarled viciously. Harry guessed that the unfortunate Lightning Officer had laughed at Squalo's bright pink hair, and the short-tempered man had finally gotten tired of the disrespect.

The poor Rain Officer had decided that the best way to deal with his new look was to ignore it, and beat anyone who mentioned it into the ground. He had already sent a dozen minions to the infirmary. Harry had survived by staying out of his way, which wasn't hard when Bel seemed determined to monopolise his attention. It was embarrassing to realise that the twelve year old was ahead of him in pretty much every academic subject, but it didn't mean he let Bel out of doing his homework. The creepy baby, Mammon, who Harry had only met in passing, had told Squalo that he would be fined severely if he interrupted while Harry was actually convincing Bel to do something productive. That seemed to be enough of a threat to keep Harry safe. Still, as a precaution Harry had made sure he had his wand on him at all times, and an Emergency Kit, full of potions and WWW products, in every pocket.

Bel, the fearless brat, was giggling at Squalo as he ate his way steadily through the mountain of toast in front of him. It turned out that he had never made toast before, and he found a great deal of pleasure in experimenting with the right setting for the perfect toast. He had gone through every shade from barely even warm to charcoal before finding the right temperature for golden brown. Once he had that sorted, he had toasted an entire loaf, so that he could see what he liked on his toast. It was a strangely child-like and innocent thing for the crazy Prince to do, so Harry had just sat back and watched, pouring the boy a glass of milk when he asked.

Levi's hair wasn't really very hard to do. He didn't want it dying, or really much other than a trim doing to it at all. Pouting at the boring job, he got to work on giving the man interesting sideburns just to entertain himself.

"Boss! Reporting in as ordered!" the lightning squad member declared, just as Harry was putting the finishing touches on Levi's newly shaped sideburns. Lightning bolts wasn't the strangest request Harry had ever had, but it was an interesting challenge.

Because Levi was stuck in the chair until Harry finished, Bel took the stack of paper from the minion. He had insisted on being in the room while Harry dealt with Levi, even after he had finished his toast, and Squalo had left to do something more interesting. The prince had got bored after five minutes and entertained himself by throwing knives into a wall. One day, Harry would figure out where he kept them; there were over a hundred embedded in the wall, forming a picture of a cat. It was adorable, in a twisted kind of way. That described most of what Bel did, actually.

"Ushishishi! Stalking children, Levi? Not very Quality, is it? Did Squalo decide he couldn't trust you with the grown up missions?" Bel flicked through the papers. "What's so special about the kid, anyway? Other than his hair changing colour. Harry, how do you get hair to be this blue?"

Harry put the razor down slowly as Bel shoved a photo under his nose. A photo of his four year old Godson.

For a second he was very still. Hermione had called it 'running cold'. Everything came into crystal focus. It had been a game. Nothing very threatening, nothing he couldn't deal with. Cooking and pranks, just having fun. He had gotten complacent. He had forgotten that just because they acted like some of his crazier friends, didn't mean that they were. They had crossed a line today. Teddy was off-limits.

Before Bel or Levi even started reaching for a weapon, Harry had them frozen and pinned to the walls, each on opposite sides of the kitchen. Bel, he left hanging there. His whole body was supported, so it wasn't dangerous for the boy. He had been with Harry for all of the last three days, there had been no time for him to do anything, even if he had been informed. But Levi? The Lightning Officer was clearly responsible for this, and he wasn't protected by Harry's dislike of harming children. He wanted answers from Levi, and depending on what he was told, the Officer might not make it out of the room alive.

"Where, exactly, did you get these from?" he asked coldly. As Levi opened his mouth, Harry waved his wand behind him, locking and sealing the door. Screw the Statute of Secrecy.

"Classified," the man growled.

"Not good enough," Harry told him. He reached into his charmed pocket, and pulled out a vial.

"This is a truth serum. One drop of this and you will answer every question I have, about anything. Unless you want to betray every secret the Varia have, I would suggest you answer honestly."

Harry had never been so grateful for the emergency kit he had in a pocket of every item of clothing he owned. Ron had called him paranoid for including Veritaserum in his pack of 'vital potions'. But you only had to need it once.

"Ushishishi! Do tell why you were stalking little boys, Levi," Bel said, sounding unbothered by both the fact that he was stuck to a wall, and that Harry was threatening his comrade. Harry didn't know whether it was confidence, arrogance, or simply underestimating the lengths to which Harry would go to protect his family.

"I won't tell you anything," Levi ground out from between clenched teeth. Harry heard Bel giggle behind him.

"Alright then," Harry said. A quick spell reinforced the door and surrounding wall. He didn't want interruptions, and a lock wouldn't be enough to stop Squalo and Lussuria if they got suspicious. He didn't know if they had ways of monitoring the room, and he wasn't going to waste time finding out. Another spell opened Levi's mouth. Harry could see the man start to panic as Harry mixed the drop of Veritaserum into a glass of water, and he knew Levi wanted to spit the water out, as Harry poured it down his throat. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey had taught him the spells needed to immobilise a patient and make them swallow a liquid safely. He didn't think that she'd had quite this use in mind though.

After fifteen seconds, Levi's eyes had glazed over.

"What's your name?" Harry asked. He needed to ensure the potion was working.

"Leviathan," the man told him in a monotone.

"What is your birth name?" Harry clarified. The potion didn't allow lies, but it didn't force you to tell the whole truth either.

"Dieter Trumbauer." German. That was a surprise.

"Why were you watching the child?"

"I wasn't."

Right. He needed to be very specific here. Levi was a Varia Officer, and not a stupid man.

"Why did you order your men to watch the child?"

"Mammon told me that it was necessary."

"What reason..." Harry was cut off by Bel shouting.

"What did we have for dinner last night? What colour is grass? How many uniforms has Lussuria designed?" His voice was urgent for once, rather than mocking or excited. Smart boy, figuring out a way to avoid revealing sensitive information. But Harry was working on a time limit. Every second he wasted here was a second Teddy was in danger.

He silenced Bel with a flick of his wand, and turned back to Levi as he finished with "and an average of twenty different variations for each style."

"What were the complete orders you gave to the men who were watching the child?"

"They were to watch and take photos. They were not to be seen. They were to prevent the child from coming to fatal harm. They were to report back after two days." His eyes were starting to lose their glazed blankness. Harry rushed ahead.

"Why did you believe that watching the child and taking photos was necessary?"

"In case you ever became a threat, we needed control of your only known…weak…" Levi ground his teeth together. The Veritaserum had worn off enough to allow him to resist answering questions. The man must have exceptional will power; even Harry himself struggled to resist Veritaserum.

Teddy wasn't in immediate danger, but that could change at any moment. Once Levi and Bel were free, the whole Varia would categorise him as a threat. He need to get out, get to Teddy, and plan from there. There wasn't any time left. The coldness that had allowed him to plan so calmly had fled, and he could feel panic beating at the back of his mind.

He could hear footsteps in the hall. Once they realised that the kitchen was locked, they would try to break through, and Harry had no doubts that they would manage. Seeing Levi open his mouth, he stunned the man, before casting another half dozen spells in quick succession. Finally, he turned to Bel, who was flexing his muscles, trying to find a weak point in the bindings. He couldn't see, but he knew the boy was glaring at him.

"I would have liked to spend more time with you, Prince Bel," Harry told the boy. He had grown fond of the brat, but Teddy came first, always. Just like Bel would always choose the Varia.

He threw a handful of Instant Darkness Powder into the air and Disapparated from the mansion.


	10. Prepare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and the Varia prepare to meet again.

"Andromeda!" Harry called, as he appeared on the front porch. He heard her come rushing around from the back garden.

"Take Teddy and floo to the Weasley's."

"What's wrong?" she asked, even as she headed inside. He followed her in and closed the door.

"I was kidnapped by a group of Muggle assassins who wanted me to babysit for them and do their hair. They were spying on Teddy to try and gain leverage. They'll probably guess that I was coming here, and they'll likely be here soon to confront me."

She stared at him in shock and then shook her head. "Only you, Harry. I'll take Teddy to France, he's been wanting to play with Victoire. That should be far enough away."

"Thank you," he said sincerely. It was at times like this that he loved her no-nonsense approach to life. "I'll cast anti-Muggle wards on the house so this can't happen again. Will that be a problem?"

"Teddy doesn't like having friends from school over, so it shouldn't be. When I get back you can key me in so I can open them if I need to." With that, she hurried upstairs, coming back down five minutes later with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a four-year-old in tow.

"Uncle Harry!" Teddy yelled, running forward to fling his arms around his Godfather.

"Hey, Teddy! Your Grandma called me here to watch the house, so that you can go on holiday to see Victoire. Make sure you take lots of pictures for me, OK?" Teddy had got a wizarding camera for his last birthday, and he was absolutely enthralled by it. Andromeda and Harry both encouraged his hobby, and his photos were stuck up all around the house.

"Yep!" Teddy nodded enthusiastically. "Come on, Grandma!" He tugged Andromeda over to the fireplace, and Harry waved goodbye as they spun away. The only thing he could do now was wait.

* * *

"Magic," Squalo said flatly. "The hairdresser was a Wizard."

Mammon tried to hide how uncomfortable she felt. Nono had given her permission to tell the Varia about magic, in the hopes that they could prevent the situation from getting any worse than it already was. The raise he had offered her was not enough to make up for this.

They were all sat in the living room of the Vongola Mansion while expendable minions went over Headquarters with a fine tooth comb. Both Bel and Levi remembered seeing Evans cast spells before he left, and they had no idea what any of them had been. Because they had been cast wordlessly, they didn't even have any incantations they could report to Mammon.

"Yes. Harry James Potter, a British war hero, renamed himself Harry Evans and moved to Italy. He is a Wizard. Magic is real. Wand-waving, broom-flying, potion-brewing Magic."

No one knew quite what to say. Until Lussuria asked the obvious question.

"So if he's so powerful why did you think threatening his Godson was a good idea, when he was being such a good boy?" Everyone turned to stare at Mammon.

"Levi's orders were to watch the boy and not be seen, so that we would have data on him in the event that Evans turned hostile, because the only way we could be guaranteed to control him was with leverage of some kind. If his squad had followed procedure like they were meant to, this would not have happened." Mammon's voice was icy, and Levi scowled.

"The idiot is no longer a member of the Varia. Still, what are we going to do now?" He was furious. It had been a long time since he had been so thoroughly overwhelmed, and it stung. That it had been at the hands of the tiny civilian was even worse. Looking back, he could see how he had been lulling them into a false sense of security. Even the prank with Squalo's hair had been saying 'I'm not a threat. All I can do is mess with your hair. I'm harmless'. They had been played. He should have taken Mammon's warnings about the civilian seriously, but at the time he had just been insulted to be given such a basic mission. His mistake, and one they were all paying for.

"The Prince wants to talk him," Bel said suddenly. The usually talkative boy had been silent so far during the meeting. Mammon wasn't sure whether it was the embarrassment of having been so easily defeated or the sense of betrayal that was weighing on him. He had been quietly compliant as he waited for the spell sticking him to the wall to wear off, not fighting or struggling. He had followed Mammon meekly to the Vongola Mansion, with only a quiet, "I can speak now, Mammy," to let her know that the silencing spell had worn off. She had been so disturbed by his behaviour that she hadn't complained when he clung to her, or even charged him for the hug. Squalo had picked up on it too; he hadn't kicked up his usual fuss when Bel huddled close to him on the sofa, just slinging an arm casually around the Prince's shoulders.

"The squad that's still in place say that Evans is at his Godson's house," Levi said.

"Voi!" Squalo yelled. No one admitted how comforting it was to hear him raise his voice again. He had disturbingly quiet all meeting. "Get the plane ready then, we're going to England."


	11. Tea With The Wizard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negotiations happen over tea. Bel is not happy.

Bel sat quietly on the plane, twirling his favourite knife between his fingers, making it whirl faster and faster. If he slipped up and cut himself he knew that Squalo had a sedative prepared, but then he probably wouldn't wake up in time to see Harry. He didn't know whether he wanted the knife to slip or not.

Squalo hadn't wanted him to come. He had argued that it should be just him as the leader and Mammon as the magic expert. Lussuria had pouted at being left behind, but as the second in command after Squalo, he had acquiesced with a surprising lack of protest. Bel supposed it made sense; Lussuria didn't like being confronted with opponents that couldn't be fought physically. Of course, Levi had been left behind. As the one who had incited Harry's anger, having him present would only be inflammatory. It wasn't like he would have anything of value to add to the conversation anyway. Squalo had wanted to leave Bel behind with them, but Bel had refused. Squalo wasn't used to seeing him serious, without giggling and invoking his royal status. In another circumstance, Bel would have enjoyed the look of shock on his face. Stupid Captains shouldn't underestimate Princes.

He was an assassin, one of the best in the world. He had gone from a ward of the Vongola to a Varia in less than a week. He had slaughtered his entire family, and would be a King as soon as he accepted the title – not that he ever would. Not even ruling a country would entice him to leave the Varia. Not unless Boss told him to, and Boss had promised that he wouldn't.

That had been what had won Bel's loyalty, in the end. He had been a messed-up eight year old, running from his home, searching for another high like the one he'd got from killing Rasiel. He was a genius, he had known that the Vongola would use him and manipulate him. He had been prepared to play the game, to win allies, to throw himself into the politics he hated just so he could have his fix, that moment when the blood flowed and the world came into focus and everything was perfect. But that Boss had swooped in, a sixteen year old with rage in his eyes and fire in his hands. He had promised Bel that if he followed, if he obeyed, if he was loyal, he would have all the blood he wanted. He would never be bored. That was enough to tie him to the Varia. But when Boss had found him crying, and sat with him instead of yelling at him for being weak, when Boss had promised that he would never, ever be sent away, that was when Bel had known that he would follow Boss to the ends of the earth.

That was what Bel did. He made his choice and stuck to it. He had known that moment that he set eyes on Levi that they wouldn't get on, like he had known that he would make Mammon his friend if it bankrupted him. He had been happy with the Varia in a way that he had never been before, until Harry came.

Harry didn't treat him like an adult or as a child, but just as himself, as a person. He liked that Squalo treated him as just another Officer, but it was hard sometimes. It was frustrating, to be treated like a child, with homework and bedtimes, and then like an adult with responsibility and blame, and no one to lean on. Harry had treated him like just Bel. He hadn't been put off by the blood and the laughter and his genius. He had just rolled with it, acting like Bel had always wanted an older brother to act. Before Harry, Lussuria had come closest to the older sibling role, but even he had never really fit. Harry was different. He was bright and strong and not a threat. He did homework and cooked whatever Bel asked for, and was so impressed by Bel's tricks. He was perfect, and Bel wanted to keep him forever. It wasn't even that hard to resist the urge to cut him, to make him bleed and squirm and go still. Was this what Mammon was talking about when she said that he would meet someone special, and want to do fun things with them that didn't involve knives? He hadn't thought it was possible before Harry.

But then Harry had left. Just like that. He had overwhelmed Bel completely. He had been helpless, pinned down and silent. Not even Mother had ever been able to immobilise him so thoroughly. He had been so careless, writing the civilian off as harmless! So weak, to be swayed by emotions. Of course he would go running for his civilian boy, leaving Bel behind. Why would he choose some helpless brat over a Prince? Clearly he wasn't worth the effort Bel had invested.

He thrust his knife into the seat beside him, slashing the cover and growling with frustration when all that was revealed was white stuffing. It wasn't the same when there was no blood. Making Harry bleed would make him feel better, blood always did. So why did the thought of hurting him twist him up inside?

Bel was jerked out of his thoughts by the plane landing. Squalo made him stow his knives as they did the whole meet-and-greet thing with the English Family that was letting them use their runway. Apparently when he didn't, he looked too threatening. Bel had been slightly offended at the idea that he needed knives to look threatening.

It didn't take them long to finish the political niceties and get into the car. Squalo, as the only one with a licence, was driving. Mammon was next to Bel in the back. Bel closed his eyes and let his circling thoughts carry him off into sleep. One day he would figure out why cars turned him into a narcoleptic.

Mammon woke him a couple of hours later, as they pulled up to a cute little country house. She promptly demanded payment for the service, which he grudgingly handed over. It wasn't as if he had any better use for the money, or even spent it at all, but he still didn't like parting with it. Squalo was already striding up to the front door and knocking loudly while Bel scrambled out of the back seat.

The door opened on the second knock, and Harry's voice called for them to enter. Bel gave the self-opening door a hard look as he walked through it. He was used to things like that, seeing as he trained with Mammon when Squalo commanded her to as part of her contracted duties or when Bel paid her for a session, but it was still creepy. Especially as he was still reorganising his worldview to fit 'all-powerful Wizard' together with 'older brother' and 'skilled but non-threatening civilian'.

The room Harry had called them to was a sitting room, with a couple of squashy sofas and an armchair currently occupied by Harry. Bel had his knives in his hands when he saw Harry draw his wand. He watched carefully as the Wizard waved it, and didn't relax when all that happened was a tea tray floating to the table in the middle of the room. Harry sighed and placed his wand on the table; Bel took that as his cue to stow his knives. No point in being hostile just yet.

"We know about Magic, Wizard," Squalo started off the discussion. "We apologise for any distress caused by our monitoring of your Family."

Bel hummed slightly. It seemed that Squalo was treating this as a negotiation with a possibly hostile non-allied Family. It was probably the safest route to take, but it made that twisty feeling in his chest come back. He scowled. He did not like these feelings! As soon as this was done, he was taking the bloodiest job that Squalo had available, and he wasn't stopping until even his eyelashes were soaked with gore.

"Please, call me Harry. And I think that my retaliation had already settled that debt between us."

"Not quite," Mammon interjected before the conversation could move away. "What spells did you cast on the Headquarters?"

Harry grinned slightly. Damn that twisty feeling! It was the same smile that he had worn as they plotted their revenge against Squalo. It meant that whatever he had cast was potentially embarrassing, but nothing too threatening. Harry told them as much, but Squalo didn't look reassured. Of course, the long-haired Captain was the one with first-hand experience of Harry's 'harmless' tricks.

"We are in a somewhat tricky position," Mammon said. It seemed like Squalo was happy to let her take over the conversation. "You see, the Mafia is bound by Omerta, a code of silence. To have a civilian aware of us and not affiliated with anyone is," she paused, "a concern."

"I see," Harry said calmly. He busied himself for a moment with making tea, from the teapot that poured itself. Of course, Bel shook his head when he was offered a drink, as did the others. Assassins didn't take refreshments from potential hostiles unless there was no alternative.

"I propose a contract between us," Mammon continued, when it became clear that Harry wasn't going to offer anything else. "You would essentially be an outside agent, under the protection of the Varia."

"I'd be more than willing to negotiate," Harry told her calmly.

What followed was half an hour of some of the most brutal negotiations Bel had ever seen. They argued back and forth over clauses, sub-clauses, exact wording, specifics responsibilities, exceptions, opt-outs and everything else. It was a brave person who argued things like this with Mammon – Bel had spent a few evenings helping Mammon with contracts just to keep his hand in, and the way she crafted them was a work of art. Harry was just barely holding his own, but at the end there was something that they both seemed happy with. Essentially, Harry would pass on any gossip from the Wizarding world that concerned the Mafia, provided it didn't break any oaths he had already sworn or put him, his Family or innocents in danger. In return, the Varia would protect him against the Mafia should he ask for their aid, and inform of threats to him and the Wizarding world from the Mafia. Several times Bel had wanted to jump in and join the discussion, but he couldn't find the words. Being tongue-tied was another Harry-exclusive feeling that he didn't like.

It was only as they were leaving that Bel gathered up the courage to speak.

"Why didn't you leave?" he asked, as they stood in the doorway. "You could have popped out any time you wanted, but you didn't. Why did you stay?"

Harry smiled at him, and Bel knew that he was hearing all the things he wasn't saying. Did you actually care about me? Were you just playing with me?

"At first I couldn't leave. Head injuries play havoc with Magic, and I didn't want to leave a part of myself behind."

Bel scowled and started to walk out the door. He had known it would be something like that.

"But then," Harry continued, "I realised that I liked spending time with you. Squalo and Lussuria were fun to spend time with, but I became invested in you before I realised it, Prince Bel. I know that assassins don't have friends, but,"

"Ushishishi!" Bel's laugh had never felt so forced. He refused to turn back to harry, refused to look at the Wizard's face. "That's right. The Prince doesn't need friends."

He clutched Mammon to his chest as he let Squalo steer him out the door.


	12. Four Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes and bridges are built.

Lussuria came sauntering in to the salon three weeks after Harry had left Headquarters. To his surprise, Harry had been welcomed back with open arms when he had returned to work after his eventful unscheduled week off. Alberto had assumed that the Varia had killed him and dragged his corpse off somewhere, so everyone had reacted as though he was ghost. It had been kind of amusing, although exasperating after the third person had poked him to make sure that he was real.

He had quickly settled back into the rhythm of hair-dressing, and after a week his co-workers had stopped sneaking glances at him as though they were afraid he might vanish again or something. Of course, Lussuria had to turn all that calm on its head.

"Are you free, Harry-chan?" the martial artist chirped. "This poor mess desperately needs some attention." He gestured to his hair, which looked slightly singed.

Harry grinned and waved him over, smiling reassuringly at the receptionist who had been trying to convince him that appointments were necessary, without irritating the intimidating customer. Luckily, the customer who had booked the time slot had called that morning to cancel, so Harry was free.

"So how's the family?" Harry asked, once he had Lussuria settled in the chair.

"We're all fine, dear. Bel's decided to fully embrace the teenage experience, and Squ-Squ's just about to run him through. Mammon is actually offering a pay rise to anyone willing to work with him, can you imagine?"

Harry had an awful feeling that Bel's problems were because of him. He truly hadn't wanted to hurt the young Prince, and had been wracking his brain to try and find a way to put things right between them. He also had the feeling that Lussuria was trying to guilt him into returning, which wasn't happening.

"Anything else interesting happening?"

"The Old Man lost his second son the other day. Poor Massimo didn't want to be part of the Family business, but that didn't keep him safe from competitors." Lussuria said in a conspiratorial whisper. Harry could hear exactly how sad Lussuria was about the man's death.

"Really?"

"Oh, the official story is a boating accident. I'm sure that I don't know why anyone would go boating with weights attached to their legs, but to each their own, I suppose."

"So there's only one person available to take over the company now?" Harry had heard the story of how the Boss of the Varia, Xanxus, had tried a coup and failed. Because he was Nono's son, he had been imprisoned somehow instead of executed. Nono's oldest son, Enrico, had been killed three days after the attempted coup.

"That's right. Only Federico, the golden boy. It would be a shame if anything were to happen to him. The Old Man would probably be forced to recall Boss!" Lussuria sounded gleeful, and Harry very carefully did not entertain the suspicion that the accidents befalling the heirs might not be caused by enemies outside of the Family.

It wasn't like a group of the best assassins in the world, fanatically loyal to their leader, would actually kill people to help their Boss's position.

Harry waved a cheerful goodbye to the flamboyant assassin, once his hair was cut and re-dyed a bright green. Yes, keeping favour with this group was probably a very good idea.

* * *

Squalo dragged a squirming Bel to the front door of Harry's house. Luckily, Harry had seen them approaching and was waiting at the door for them, so Squalo didn't have to let go of Bel to knock. Once Bel had been unceremoniously dumped on a sofa, where he sat scowling with knives whirling between his fingers, Squalo gestured wildly with his sword.

"Voi! I'm sick of his moping"

"The Prince has not been moping!" Moping was for peasants.

"You haven't been eating properly, you do homework without complaining, and you've taken more bloody missions that the rest of us combined. Mammon's been bitching that you've had to replace those stripper boots of yours six times in the past four months. You're sulking, brat."

"If you want to spend the day here to refresh yourself, Bel, we'd love to have you. Teddy's been eager to meet you," Harry offered. He had been told that Bel was 'sulking', but he hadn't known it was so bad. They had only known each other for a week before Harry had left!

Bel seemed to be considering the offer when Teddy came rushing into the room, covered in red paint. He caught sight of the strangers in the room and ran to hide behind Harry's legs.

"Who are you?" he asked. Teddy wasn't used to seeing strangers in the house.

"These are the friends I stayed with in Italy, Teddy. The one with the sword is Squalo, and the boy with the crown is Prince Belphegor."

Teddy grinned. "Wow! Are you a real Prince?"

"Of course I am!" Bel huffed, offended. Stupid child. Harry had known immediately that he was a real Prince. Obviously the boy wasn't as smart as his Godfather.

"Wow!" Teddy repeated.

For a moment Harry was hopeful. Bel was interacting with Teddy, and Teddy was clearly taken with Bel. Of course, then it all had to go to Hell. Teddy did what he always did when he met a new person – shift his features to match theirs. He couldn't mimic the tiara, and his hair was a little straighter than Bel's, but otherwise it was a carbon copy in miniature. It was only the slightest flicker of movement, a change in the swirling rhythm of Bel's knives that had Harry pulling Teddy out of the path of the deadly projectiles. They buried themselves in the wall behind where Teddy had been a moment ago.

"Change it back!" Bel was trembling with rage and grief and a whole swirling mess of emotions he didn't want to touch. Was it a gift of Harry's family, to make him feel things he couldn't understand? The child looked like he was about to cry. So much like Rasiel had looked, when Bel had skinned his cat. So much like Bel himself had looked, when Rasiel had stomped on Ferret until it was nothing but a bloody, lumpy mess. He had killed Rasiel the next day. Eating worms was nothing. He should have known better than to touch Ferret.

He didn't want to see his brother again. Didn't want to see the child he had been, back when they could still play together sometimes. Before Mother had poured so much poison into their ears that it spilled out of their mouths, so that every conversation became a vicious argument.

He felt something snap in his arm. It wasn't until he heard the ring of his knives on tiled floor – because he would know the sound of his knives anywhere – that he realised he had dropped them. Which meant he had been holding them. When had he drawn more?

He looked around as the world came into focus again. The child had black hair again. Rasiel was gone. Squalo was holding his arm, twisting it at an impossible angle. Protecting the civilians, or protecting the alliance? Either way. It hurt, burning and throbbing. Normally when he felt pain like this, there was bloodlust to wash it away. Now there was only sick, awful emptiness.

Harry moved forward slowly, and Bel watched with dull eyes. Rasiel's eyes. He hated that he saw the world out of Rasiel's eyes. He hid them away so that he wouldn't ever have to catch a glimpse of them in a mirror. Harry drew his wand, and Bel couldn't find it in himself to care. The last time Harry had drawn a wand on him, he had been pinned to a wall, but he couldn't find fear inside himself anymore. Rasiel had hollowed him out. He wanted Boss.

He twisted round as soon as Squalo let go of his arm. He ignored Harry tapping it with his wand and muttering, he barely paid attention to the pain receding. He buried his head in Squalo's chest and sobbed. Boss could have kept him safe from Rasiel, but Boss wasn't here. Captain would have to do. He wanted Boss.

* * *

Mammon hated taking time out of her day for things like this, but it was just too delicate to trust to a subordinate. When the Vongola Boss gave you a message to pass on, you passed it on personally. Levi had taught her the mistake of delegating anything when it came to Harry Potter. In the past two years, they hadn't had any issues with their Wizarding informant, and she didn't want that to change. Which it would, if Nono had gone with his first idea and sent one of his idiots round to manipulate of threaten Harry.

She had called ahead to prevent wasting time, and so she was able to get to the reason she was taking time out of her day after only the barest of polite greetings and tea.

"Vongola Nono would like it if you would consider becoming the official ambassador between the Mafia and the Magical world."

Potter snorted his tea out of his nose and choked. After half a minute, once he was breathing normally again, he waved his hand and cleaned the mess up. "How much would it cost for you to help me to word a reply that conveys the sentiment of 'Hell no, not happening, you senile old fart', without actually causing offence?"

"Twenty-five Galleons."

"Not a chance. Five."

"This is an official response with potentially far-reaching consequences. Seventeen." She did love haggling. No one at the Varia bothered any more.

"Ten. And I'll cook dinner." That was too tempting an offer to pass up.

"I want a vegetable stir fry." She wasn't going to refuse a chance to eat something other than the parade of meat dishes Levi and Squalo insisted on having in honour of the Boss.

"Deal. I'll start cooking, you start writing."

Mammon had fun writing up Harry's response to Nono. Trying to make it sound like it was written by him, but not actually giving offence, was a challenge. She put it aside once the food was prepared, taken aback by the glass of strawberry milk that came with it. She had drunk it once in his presence while she was at the mansion, and he must have remembered. Even Lussuria would comment on the 'baby' drink she preferred, despite the martial artist's own preference for ridiculously sweet cocktails and fruit smoothies. Potter had just served the drink as though it was perfectly normal. She thought she could see why Bel was so taken with him.

After dinner, she settled down to write the letter properly, charging Potter every time he made a ridiculous request like 'can you fit the word 'coot' in there somewhere? I love that word' and 'imply as much as you can that I think he's lost his marbles without actually saying it'. By the end of the evening, she had made a tidy profit, had a free meal, and enjoyed some amusing conversation. She loved days like that.

"By the way," Harry called just as she was preparing to leave, "I found this in the library. I thought you might find it interesting."

He handed her a leather-bound book. On the inside page, the title read 'Harnessing the Energy of the Rainbow Within'. A flick through revealed diagrams depicting wave energy, Dying Will Flames, the properties of the various Flames, and other things that the Mafia were still trying to explore. The book was priceless. She stared at him in shock.

"It's not really my cup of tea, but I thought you might like it. Would you ask Bel if he's free this weekend? Teddy's been asking for him." With that, Harry waved a cheerful goodbye and moved into the living room, leaving her to float out of the door holding her new treasure.

Mammon hated dealing with Potter. She always left more confused than when she entered, no matter how much she learned. What kind of man haggled over a handful of Galleons and handed over a book that a Mafioso would kill his own Family for?

* * *

Harry watched as Bel helped Teddy mix the cake batter. They were so adorable together. At first, Bel had resented Teddy and the attention that Harry had paid him. Luckily, Bel's breakdown the first time they met hadn't dimmed Teddy's hero-worship in the slightest, and Bel thrived under the constant and unconditional adoration of the boy, who he had quickly named his 'kouhai'. Japanese hadn't been one of Bel's seven languages that he had entered the Varia with, but rumours of another heir surfacing in Japan had made Squalo insist that all his members be fluent. Bel had grumbled but obliged.

Harry hadn't thought that Bel would return after the disastrous first attempt that Squalo had made to bring him round. It had been a shock to see Bel arrive in his salon without a Varia escort two months later, to demand that Harry neaten his hair. The conversation had been awkward but encouraging, and since then Bel had visited Harry, either at his house or the salon, at least once every two months, to Teddy's delight. Nearly four years later, Teddy was as close to Bel as he was to the Weasleys.

Which led to cake day. Every Saturday, Harry made cake with Teddy. Whenever Bel visited on a Saturday, he and Teddy would make one cake, while Harry would make another, and Andromeda judged whose was best. Bel was a surprisingly good baker – the peasants just couldn't get it right, and after all, he was a Prince – and Teddy behaved far better for him than he would for Harry, so they actually won more often than not.

Bel's phone rang as he was weighing out the chocolate chips.

"Ushishishi!" Harry still hadn't worked out what was so funny that Bel had to giggle at it. By now he just accepted it as one of Bel's ticks. "Could you mix these in for me, Kouhai?"

Teddy nodded seriously and poured the chocolate chips into the chocolate cake mix. Harry came over to hold the bowl for him while Bel took the call.

"What is it? I'm…What?...You're sure?...I'll be there!" Bel's tone moved from annoyance to incredulity to joy as he hung up the phone.

He almost ran over to the sink, washing his hands quickly before dashing for the door, ruffling Teddy's hair on the way out.

"I have to go. I might not be in touch for a while. Nono is waking Boss up, Squalo says it's really happening, I need to be back in Italy. Boss will have plans, we'll all be busy for a while, I'll call when I can."

"But Bel-nii," Teddy had picked up little bits of various languages from Bel, and fallen in love with Japanese forms of address.

"Sorry, Kouhai. Make a Princely cake for me!" With a laugh and a wave Bel dashed out the door.

As Harry reassured the pouting eight-year-old that he hadn't done anything wrong, and Bel would be back when he wasn't so busy, he wondered grimly about how this would upset the delicate status quo he had spent the last four years establishing.

 


	13. Xanxus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets Xanxus. Furniture is destroyed.

"Voi!" Squalo yelled as he burst into the salon. Alberto and Daniela immediately put the Varia Action Plan into action, getting the customers out the door as soon as Squalo was in the centre of the room. They had learned quickly that when the weapons came out it was time to leave, and Squalo was waving his sword around like a madman.

After the salon was clear of everyone but the two of them, Squalo put his sword away and sank down onto the sofa in the corner. He let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. Harry fetched him a glass of water, which he accepted wordlessly and drank down in one long gulp. Harry sat next to him and waited for him to speak. After it became clear that Squalo wasn't going to start the conversation, Harry decided to get the ball rolling.

"I suppose your Boss has been keeping you busy?" In the month since Bel had rushed out of his house, none of them had visited, and Bel and Lussuria had only called once each, as opposed to their standard weekly chats.

"You can say that again. I'd forgotten what a demanding bastard he is." Despite his complaints, Squalo sounded like a man completely happy with his place in the world. It was like a burden he had been carrying for as long as Harry had known him had finally been put down.

"He wants to meet you," Squalo said after another moment of silence.

"Me?" Harry supposed it made sense that Xanxus would want to meet him, but for some reason it just hadn't occurred to him.

"Are you free now?" Squalo asked, setting his glass down on the small table and pushing himself to his feet.

"Sure. Let me text Alberto and I'll come with." His co-workers saw Harry disappearing occasionally to deal with the Varia as a small price to pay for their patronage. And their protection – none but the most suicidal of Mafioso were going to mess with the Varia's salon.

Once Harry had let Alberto know that he was leaving, he locked the salon up and slid into the front seat of Squalo's obscenely expensive car. Despite himself, he was nervous about this.

In no time at all, they pulled up in front of the mansion. Squalo led him down one the 'off-limits' corridors, stopping in front of a nondescript wooden door. He knocked loudly.

"Voi, Boss! I've brought the hairdresser!"

Harry heard a grunt from inside the room. That was apparently enough for Squalo to open the door, shove him through and abandon him to the mercy of his Boss.

Xanxus was slouched in a throne-like chair with his eyes closed and his jacket draped across his shoulders like a cape. Harry knew he wasn't asleep – his presence was practically a physical thing, a burning aura that made his breath catch in his lungs. This was the man who could corral the world's greatest swordsman and the expert in Muay Thai. This was the man that even Bel, arrogant Bel, as independent as a cat, would follow without question. He was overwhelming, and terrifying.

"Trash." He didn't even bother opening his eyes. Harry would have been offended if he hadn't spent the last four years hearing stories about the man.

"Xanxus."

"The trash have told me a lot about you. You'll fight for me." Harry got the feeling that for this man, that was polite.

"Excuse me?"

"I need a Cloud. You're it, trash," Xanxus growled.

"No can do, I'm afraid." He knew as soon as it was out of his mouth that the flippant tone was a mistake.

"I wasn't asking, trash. You're allied with the Varia, which makes you my bitch, you'll do as you're fucking told, or I'll burn you death right here!"

"I told you, I can't!"

Harry yelped and dived out of the way of the burst of fire that came the gun suddenly present in Xanxus' hand. When had he drawn them? How fast was this guy? He seemed to find making Harry dive cover amusing enough that he slowed down his shots, still not moving from his slouch in the chair. Soon everything that might pass for cover in the room had been burned to powder, and Harry had nothing left to hide behind.

Xanxus grinned and fired, the burst brighter and more concentrated than before. He had playing like a cat with a mouse, and now he was going in for the kill. In desperation, Harry cast the strongest shield charm he knew, fighting to keep it in place as the fire pushed, searching out cracks and weaknesses. Spells splashed against shields and were gone in an instant, but this was like a tsunami, a never ending wave, and he couldn't go on the offensive. The second he dropped the shield he was dead, and he would tire far before Xanxus. The whole world narrowed down to his wand, and the fire, and Xanxus' mad cackling in the background. What did he know, what could he do?

The fire wasn't magic. It was some kind of soul-based power, fuelled by resolve. And anger, Squalo had said that Xanxus had 'Flames of Wrath'. Could he use that? Emotion based magic was some of the most powerful, so maybe? He would only have one shot at this.

He twisted his wand to the side and shouted another spell. A new shield took the place of the old one, a shield that didn't need constant maintenance. The flame was gaining ground, he had maybe half a minute before the shield fell and he would be too tired to cast again. Shields were the most exhausting of all magic, and the spell he needed would take every drop he had left.

Closing his eyes, he conjured up his memory. The most precious one he had, baby Teddy toddling towards him on unsteady legs, arm reaching out to 'Unka Hawee'. Andromeda taking pictures as Teddy collapsed in his lap, giggling. All that love and joy and hope, every drop of laughter and innocence, he gathered it all up and let it wash through him as he shouted "Expecto Patronum!"

Prongs burst out, galloping towards Xanxus as the shield started to shimmer and fade. The fire pushed forward, and Harry dived to the right. The burst of flame shifted left as Xanxus fired at the stag, shouting more and more desperately as his guns did nothing. As he swung the guns back to an exhausted Harry, Prongs rushed through him, bathing Xanxus in silvery light.

The guns wouldn't fire. Harry's gamble had worked. Flames powered by rage couldn't work when there was no rage to fuel them. Harry met Xanxus' eyes and saw the man fighting against the peace Prongs offered, refusing to accept the solace. Harry's heart broke a little as he stumbled out the door.

Squalo had one of the minions drive him home. Harry fell into an exhausted sleep halfway there.

Harry was playing cat's cradle with Bel a couple of days later when I occurred to him to ask a question that had been bothering him on and off since Bel had dashed off to see his newly awakened Boss. "Why do you follow him?"

"What?" It was amazing how expressive Bel could be without his eyes to show emotion.

"Why are you so loyal to Xanxus? I don't think that I've ever actually asked that before. You were eight when you joined the Varia, and eight when the coup happened and Xanxus was frozen. What happened in less than a year to make you stay loyal to him for eight? You've spent half your life waiting for him to be free."

For once Bel spoke seriously, with no giggling. "You've met him, Harry. You felt what he was like. How could I not be loyal to someone like that? Boss is fire and anger and passion. It's like a promise; no one gets to hurt you but me. He makes us all stronger than we could be without him. If you don't understand it, then you won't."

"No, I think I understand. There really aren't words, are there? His presence, it's a threat and dare. Get close and I'll burn you alive. And he makes you want to burn." Harry struggled to put the overwhelming presence of the man into words, and failed miserably. Bel tilted his head thoughtfully, so he must have managed to communicate at least a fraction of what he meant.

"He's the only person in the world who could lead us. The Ninth crippled himself when he froze Boss. He has no idea how much we've done to keep the Vongola safe. If we didn't care about Boss having a Family to take over, Vongola would be dust now." By the end of his little rant, Bel was spitting. He flung a handful of knives into the wall and stormed into the garden. Teddy knew to stay out of Bel's way when he needed to vent, so Harry left him alone and busied himself removing the knives and repairing the wall. Again.

After Bel left, Harry said goodbye to Teddy and Andromeda and apparated back to his apartment in Italy. He needed to think. Why had Xanxus reacted so viciously to him? The answer came to him as soon as he thought the question, and he felt like smacking his head against a wall. The man was possessive, arrogant and used to being in control. He had lost eight years and returned to find his people gushing over some civilian he had never met. Xanxus had felt out of control, out of step with this new world. Harry was a symbol of the time that had been stolen from him.

With his newfound understanding and a bottle of alcohol, Harry dared to return to the Varia Headquarters the next day. He called ahead to check that he would be welcome, and the minion he spoke to sounded almost desperate for him to come. Squalo met him at the door and explained why.

"Voi! Boss has been like a rabid bear since you visited. I don't know what you did to him, but fix this!"

Squalo all but shoved him through the door to Xanxus' office. Harry heard his footsteps stomp away down the corridor as he looked around the room. The carpet had been replaced, but the walls and ceiling still bore scorch marks. The sofa and desk had been replaced. The only original piece of furniture in the room was the chair Xanxus was slouched on. He glared at Harry as he sat awkwardly on the sofa. After a moment, Xanxus gestured to the bottle Harry held with his gun.

"The hell is that, trash?"

"It's firewhisky. It's got a bit more of a kick to it than anything else I've found. Technically, it's illegal to supply it to Muggles, but I figure you can probably handle it."

Harry accepted the glass thrown at his head with a laugh, and filled it with alcohol. He didn't mention that this was one of his most expensive bottles. Rather than levitating it back, after a moment of deliberation, he carefully pulled himself to his feet and handed the glass to Xanxus, who accepted it with a raised eyebrow, tossing it down in one shot and closing his eyes as he felt it burn its way down. After a moment, he opened his eyes and smiled slightly, holding the glass out to Harry. With a grin of his own, Harry poured another glass for him, and one for himself before sitting back down on the couch. They drank together in silence for a moment, and it was surprisingly companionable.

"I didn't mean that I wasn't willing to stand with you, you know," Harry dared to break the silence. Xanxus' red glare slashed through him.

"Showing magic to Muggles, which your opponents count as, is against the Statute of Secrecy. I'd be arrested, and you would probably have your minds wiped before anyone realised you were allowed to know about Magic. That kind of thing could start a war."

Xanxus huffed, taking another sip of firewhisky. Harry figured it was as close to acceptance as he was going to get.

"Doesn't mean I'm not willing to support you. I haven't upgraded anyone's weapons or anything, because it's not part of the contract and I really want everything to be legal and above board. As much as it can be when I'm making deals with the Mafia. But if you want to add to the contract, I can make it so that Bel's wire can't break, and his knives don't run out. I know that Squalo would sooner cut my throat than let me touch his sword, but Lussuria would let me charm that knee of his to be unbreakable. There are potions as well, for healing and strength and focus, and resistance against poisons." Harry figured it was probably the alcohol making him talk so much. Normally he would fight the effects, but he knew that Xanxus needed to see him vulnerable. The man needed to reassert his authority over Harry, the wildcard who had suborned his people while he had been locked away.

"Sort the paperwork out with Mammon and I'll sign whatever, trash. Potions. Talk."

"They can heal just about any physical problem under the sun. Mental ones are trickier. Re-growing bones, healing burns or bruises, curing headaches, you name it. We can deal with pretty much any disease as well."

"Sort it out with the baby, trash. She'll know what we need."

"I'll do that. In the meantime, I have another gift."

Xanxus' gaze sharpened as Harry reached into an inside pocket. The gun had materialised in his hand didn't disappear as Harry drew out a thick envelope. Harry grinned at the suspicious look on Xanxus' face.

"Did Squalo tell you about the time his hair got died pink?"

Two minutes later, everyone in the mansion froze at the sound of their Boss's laughter filling headquarters for the first time in eight years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you want this to stay gen, or do you want a Harry/Xanxus pairing? Either way, it won't have be graphic and it won't have much of an impact on what passes for a plot here. Let me know if you care either way, or even if you don't.


	14. After the Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Ring Battles, Bel turns up on Harry's doorstep.

Bel was crying. Bel had turned up on his doorstep and he was crying. Harry's parenting instincts activated. Who had made Bel cry? He hadn't seen him cry since he was twelve. Harry ushered him in through the front door and summoned the tea, before pulling him down onto the sofa. Bel turned and buried his head into Harry's shoulder.

"The Prince isn't crying," he mumbled, his voice hitching as he trembled with the sobs he was trying to supress.

"It's Ok," Harry told him gently, as he rubbed his back and stroked his hair. He set about removing the tiara from Bel's hair, which was a job and a half since the Prince wove it in somehow so it wouldn't fly away during a fight.

"What are you doing?" Bel demanded grumpily.

"You don't have to be a Prince here. You can just be Bel, and Bel is allowed to cry."

"But if I'm not a Prince then what am I? That stupid storm brat saw through my wire attacks! I only won because he wanted to see fireworks, of all the stupid peasant things. But Boss won against the brat, but we still lost. And Boss isn't actually Vongola, and he's not come out of his room, and Squalo's been quiet, and Mammy made me a sandwich for free the other day and everything's gone wrong! It's not supposed to be like this."

Bel was sobbing and shaking, not even trying to hide it. All Harry could do was hold him and wait for the storm to pass. Bel didn't do well with change. To have just got his Boss back, and then for this to happen, it had shaken him badly.

"So, tell me what happened," Harry asked, once Bel was calm again.

"Fine," Bel grumbled, wrapping his arms tighter around Harry. His voice was muffled by Harry's shirt, but he wasn't about to tell the Prince to move.

"So, we went and met the brats," Bel started. Harry interrupted.

"Brats?" He hadn't been told that they were fighting children.

"Yeah. From what Sawada had been saying, we expected an eighteen or nineteen year old, sixteen at the youngest. What we got was a fourteen year old brat and his school friends." Bel sounded put out. Harry chose to believe that it was because he had been forced to fight children, not because he had been tricked.

"The Storm boy was Mafia, so it was a good fight, I guess. Less embarrassing than the shark. He lost to a middle-school baseball player who'd been learning how to use a sword for all of a week. Luss won thanks to that reinforced knee you gave him." Bel giggled quietly. "The look on their faces when he just got back up! And Mammy lost to that convict illusionist. He's wiped out whole Families, so I guess losing to him isn't too bad. Serves Mammy right for not actually trying."

Bel was quiet for a moment. Harry sat patiently with him, stroking his hair and waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

"But Boss won his fight. We were expecting him to go in hard, but he was patient, and calmer. I don't know what you did to him, but it worked. The peasant brat tried to trap him in the ice again," Harry could hear the raw fury in Bel's voice, "But Boss kept moving so he couldn't. And we managed to get the Rings off the brats, and get them to Boss so he won before the peasant could actually attack. What good is an ultimate attack that takes five minutes to charge in a battle situation? But the Rings rejected Boss, so we're stuck with the useless peasant as Decimo." The sadness in his voice was gone completely now, replaced by burning anger. Harry didn't want to touch the topic of the useless Decimo, so he addressed the other elephant in the room.

"The Rings rejected Xanxus?"

"Squalo explained. The Ninth adopted Xanxus because he somehow had the Vongola Flames, but not the bloodline. Only he lied to him about it, telling him that he would be able to become Decimo. But blood's the only thing that matters to the stupid peasants, not talent, so the Rings wouldn't let him become Decimo and the brat won by default!"

Wow. That was some class-A awful parenting right there.

"But I've seen pictures of the Bosses. Xanxus is like the Secundo's reincarnation."

"The Prince knows! But that's not good enough for the Rings. They'll always choose Primo's bloodline, even though Primo was a coward who ran away to Japan when things got hard, and now decides to bitch that we did what we needed to so we could survive!"

There was nothing he could say to that. All he could do was sit quietly with Bel until the teen fell asleep. Harry carried him up to bed. He looked so young when he slept. His mouth wasn't stretched in that wide grin of his. He pouted in his sleep, it was adorable. Harry removed his jacket, but left the boots on. He wasn't worried about marks on the bedsheets, and it would probably wake the Prince up if he started to unlace those monstrosities. Bel snuggled down under the covers as soon as Harry pulled them over him, pulling a pillow to his chest and mumbling sleepily. Harry watched for a moment before he left the room, taking Bel's jacket with him.

He hung the jacket up on the coat hooks by the door and settled in to watch TV. He was in his apartment, not Teddy's house in England, so he had to be quiet lest he wake up Bel. The Prince was in the only bedroom, so he would probably end up sleeping on the sofa. He had decided to give up on TV and put a movie on when Bel's phone started ringing. Why the Prince had chosen creepy Latin chanting as his ringtone, Harry would never know.

Worried that it might be important, Harry took the call. Only the Varia had Latin chanting as the ringtone, so Harry felt fairly safe in answering.

"Where the Hell are you?" Squalo demanded as soon as he picked up the phone.

"Bel's with me. He's sleeping at the moment, is it urgent?" Harry asked. He really didn't want to wake Bel up unless he had to.

"You finally got Bel to sleep? Thank God. Boss wants him back, but if you can get him into the car he'll fall asleep again. Bring some of whatever you did to mellow him out last time."

Squalo ended the call abruptly. Harry frowned. The Captain had sounded exhausted, and more. Shame? Anger? Grief? Harry couldn't tell, but he didn't like it.

He spent a minute gathering up his stocks of firewhisky, hangover cures, cookies and chocolate, before stowing them in the car along with Bel's jacket. Then he went to wake Bel up. The Prince was stubborn when he was awake, and even more so when he was sleepy. Harry ended up carrying him, duvet and all, down to the car. Bel tried to stab him a couple of times, until Harry flicked him on the nose and told him to behave. He pouted, but allowed himself to be buckled into the backseat of the car. True to Squalo's words, Bel fell asleep the second the car was in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, we have more Xanxus and Varia Family Feels. Then we have the Future Arc. Wish me luck.


	15. Chapter 15

Squalo raised an eyebrow when Harry carried Bel into the living room. He was sat on an armchair, staring at the muted television dully. Bel was clinging to Harry like a monkey, and refused to be put down. Giving up trying to pry him away, Harry sat down on the sofa with him.

"You need to let go, Bel," Harry told him. Bel just squirmed closer, still swaddled in the duvet.

"Why?" he whined. The boy was like a four year old when he was tired.

"I need to deliver the alcohol to Xanxus," he said.

Bel whined some more, but grudgingly disentangled himself. Harry grabbed a cushion and manoeuvred Bel until he was lying down, using the cushion as a pillow with the duvet tucked around him. Squalo turned fully round in his chair to stare.

"When you've finished playing Mother, Boss is in his office. Be careful." Despite his scathing tone, he kept his voice down. Harry smiled at him, and passed him one of the boxes of cookies before he picked up the rest of his offerings and made his way to Xanxus' room.

He knocked on the door, and chose to take the lack of a demand to leave as permission to enter. Xanxus was sat in the dark, glass in hand. He opened his eyes as Harry walked in.

"What do you want, trash?"

"I brought more alcohol, although I don't think you need it."

"You think you know what I need, trash!"

Harry sighed inwardly. In this type of mood, there was no way that Xanxus would willingly listen to what he had to say. He would have to get drastic, and pray, because he was fairly sure that Xanxus' sulking was what was driving the whole of the Varia down.

"I think that you're moping. I think that you don't have anyone around you who's willing to tell you what you need to hear instead of what you want to hear, so you're sat here driving yourself crazy in the dark."

"Get out! Get the fuck out, trash!"

Xanxus brought his X-Gun up to point straight at Harry. Harry Immobilised him and started speaking quickly.

"The Ninth was an asshole who made a whole load of mistakes when it came to dealing with you. The inheritance requirements aren't fair to you, and the world has fucked itself up while you were imprisoned. Nothing is stable anymore and you're fighting for control."

Harry took a deep breath. "You don't have to fight here, Xanxus. You have the strongest of the Mafia here, ready to fight at your command. Squalo, the best swordsman in the world, took on a leadership role he hated, and wasn't suited for, for eight years, because he wanted the Varia to be the best it could be for your return. Levi killed so many people for insulting you that the Mafia is afraid to even think badly about you. Mammon stays despite the enormous profit she could make anywhere else. Lussuria thrives here, because you made this a safe place for the outcasts, a place that judges purely on abilities, not on bloodlines or tradition or anything else. Bel, a Prince who prides himself on his lineage, has spent half his life in a foreign country fighting for the sake of his leader, a man he believed to be an illegitimate son. These people are loyal to you completely, Xanxus. Anyone in the mansion would give anything for you."

"Anyone, trash?" The Imobulus had almost completely worn off. Soon, Xanxus would be able to move as well as talk. Instead of raising a shield like a normal person, Harry just looked him in the eye.

"Anyone, Xanxus. What would being Decimo give you that you don't have here?"

Xanxus scoffed, and stood. "Get everyone in the main room, trash. We're going to get drunk, and we're going to plan. The fucking baby trash is going to need us to be on point if the Vongola's going to survive him." He projected so much confidence that Harry barely noticed how badly Xanxus was trembling. For the first time since Harry had met him, all of his scars were on display.

As Xanxus strode out of his office, the mansion seemed to come alive. Levi came bounding down the corridor, apparently summoned by his Boss's sheer presence. Xanxus absently punched him into a wall.

"Main meeting room, trash. Bring alcohol."

As Levi dashed away, Harry heard the whispers start. Xanxus must really have been moping for his mood to have cast such a pall over the entire place. By the time they reached the meeting room, most of Xanxus' scars had vanished again. Everyone else was already gathered in the room, Squalo and Levi opposite Bel, Lussuria and Mammon. Harry's box of cookies was on the table, although there was only one left. Lussuria was staring in shock at Bel.

"What?" the Prince snapped grumpily. He had shed his duvet, but Harry knew that it was only fear of pushing his hair aside that kept him from rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Nothing, Bel-chan. I just don't think I've ever seen you without it," Lussuria told him.

Bel straightened. "My crown? Harry, where…"

"Shut the fuck about the tiara, trash." The room went silent as Xanxus spoke.

Only for a moment, though.

"Finally, shitty Boss. I can't sign the paperwork for you!"

"Good to see you again, Boss! I'll cook some yummy steak for dinner, just for you!

"Boss! Let me pull out a chair for you!"

Xanxus punched Levi to the ground and sank down onto a throne Harry could have sworn wasn't there a moment ago.

"The shitty battles are finished, trash. Stop moping. Except the shark. That was fucking pathetic, losing to a pre-schooler."

"Voi! He was a high-schooler!"

Xanxus just raised an eyebrow and knocked back a glass of tequila. Squalo flushed bright red. Saying it out loud, it really wasn't much a redeeming factor.

"Pour some of the good alcohol, trash," Xanxus demanded once his glass was empty. Harry poured the firewhisky generously into a clean glass, wondering how much of his still-breathing status was down to his ability to provide alcohol.

"The shitty brat doesn't know the first thing about the Vongola, so once he becomes Decimo," Xanxus paused to knock back the drink and throw the glass at Harry, "he's going to drive the whole thing into the ground. Especially with the love and forgiveness shit he has going on. The only way we're going to survive is if the scum fear us more than they loathe him," Xanxus said, now sipping his second glass of firewhisky.

"So trash," he said, scowling around the room, "Let's get dangerous."

"Yes Boss!" Levi exclaimed. "I'll make the Varia the most feared organisation in the world!"

"Ushishishi!" Bel giggled. "We already are, idiot. The prestige of winning the Ring Battles should at least give the brats enough of a reputation that they won't be wiped out immediately."

Squalo scoffed. "Voi! Brats? Bel, they're your age."

Bel pouted as Lussuria laughed at him. In a second, Bel's knives were in the air, Squalo's sword was waving, and Levi was shouting something unintelligible. Harry decided to stop the chaos before it could escalate.

"I have more cookies, if you're interested?"

Everyone froze. Then, in an instant, all weapons were away and everyone was seated properly at the table as though they were all respectable Mafioso instead of the most chaotic group of extreme personalities Harry had ever met.

"Give them here, trash," Xanxus growled before Harry could pass out the cookies.

Harry slid the box over. He wasn't going to fight with Xanxus over cookies. The man took a handful, then shoved the half-empty box down the table to Squalo. A free-for-all broke out as they scrambled for the cookies. Xanxus grinned and bit into his own. Bel emerged from the fray first, with hair even messier than before and three cookies clutched tightly in his hands. Lussuria punched Squalo in the face and came away with two, and the box. Squalo had a mouth bulging with half-eaten cookies, chocolate showing between his teeth, and Levi scoffed as he looked at his crumbled half. Somehow, Mammon had a small stack in front of her. Harry had never even seen her move.

"I didn't want your cookies anyway," Levi pouted.

"Should have known you had no taste, trash," Xanxus snorted, nibbling his way delicately through his third cookie. Harry's eyes widened, and he stared at Xanxus. Was that a compliment?

Levi immediately started babbling apologies and praise for the cookies. After a moment, Bel got irritated and threw a knife at him, and the room descended into chaos once again. Harry just sat by Mammon and watched. Trying to make the Varia behave was an exercise in futility.

Once all the firewhisky had been drunk – mostly by Xanxus – the cookies had been eaten – again mostly by Xanxus – the chocolate had been handed out – Bel got the lion's share of that – and hangover potions had been supplied – to Squalo, the only one Harry trusted to remember them in the morning and actually make sure everyone got one – the group dispersed.

Xanxus stopped Harry by grabbing his arm. As Harry turned to face him, he found himself shoved against a wall with a gun under his chin.

"You ever freeze me again, trash, and I'll burn you to death," he growled in his ear.

With that, Xanxus stalked away. Harry sank to the floor, all the strength gone from his legs. It took him almost ten minutes to gather himself enough that he could Apparate home.


	16. Future (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry remembers a future that will never be.

Harry barely registered Andromeda's cry of surprise when he fell to the floor. His mind was consumed with the memories that were overwhelming him. They came in fragments, some like movies and others like photos. He closed his eyes in a futile attempt to block out the onslaught, not seeing Teddy call the emergency Varia number, or hearing him panic when no one answered. The world faded around him, and he was consumed by memories of a future that had been and would never be.

* * *

Harry had finally given into the inevitable and quit his job at the salon. Alberto and Daniela both seemed sad to see him go, but also guiltily relieved that the chaos that followed him would leave as well. The salon would remain under Varia protection, so Alberto and Daniela didn't have to fear imbecilic Mafiosi who had an axe to grind with the Varia and thought going after unaffiliated civilians was the way to go.

He split his time fairly evenly between the Varia and Teddy. The eight year old had been demanding to visit the Varia Headquarters, and Harry had finally agreed to ask Xanxus.

"Do what you want, trash. Just keep the brat out of my way," Xanxus said, before throwing a glass at Harry's head.

Bel was ecstatic at the news. That weekend, Harry brought Teddy over, and Bel spent the entire day dragging the younger boy all over the mansion, showing him secret passages and commanding all the minions he came across to treat his kouhai with the utmost respect. He even paid Mammon to show them some illusions.

Xanxus only made a brief appearance that weekend, but Teddy was enthralled. He terrified Andromeda when he insisted on having red eyes for the rest of the week.

* * *

Harry called Squalo after stunning the would-be assassin. The swordsman answered the phone by the third ring, despite it being three in the morning.

"Voi! What is that, the third this month?" he said. Squalo didn't really care much about phone etiquette.

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "This is getting ridiculous. Tell Xanxus I'm accepting his totally-not-an-offer and moving in. Civilians are going to start getting hurt soon."

"Sure thing." Squalo sounded entirely too happy. "I'll send a couple of minions to pick you up and take care of the trash. Your room'll be ready for you when you get here."

Harry spent the next five minutes packing up his apartment, grateful once again for Magic. Everything he owned fit into one suitcase, except his hair products which had their own bag. Enough of them were potions that he didn't want to risk shrinking them. Some potions reacted to that rather explosively.

Once he arrived at the mansion, Squalo led him to the same room he had stayed in all those years ago. Harry rolled his eyes, but set his bags down. It didn't matter how obvious they made their hints, he wasn't going to become the Cloud Officer. He had put fighting and violence behind him, there was no way he would voluntarily become an assassin. Babysitting them was quite enough for him.

* * *

Teddy gave Xanxus a set of feathers for his hair. A white one from his owl, a black one from a raven that he had spent the best part of three months befriending, and his prized possession, a phoenix tail feather. Harry still didn't know where Teddy had got it from, but he hadn't thought his Godson would ever part with it.

Xanxus had taken the hair ornament with a look of bemusement and a grunt of thanks. Teddy had been disappointed by the lack of reaction, until Harry told him how Xanxus had worn it in his hair to meet with his father. It quickly became the man's lucky charm, and he wore it whenever he was going to a particularly stressful meeting. Nobody commented except Lussuria, who cooed about how sweet it was. The flamboyant man was promptly shoved through a wall, and found himself spending the next three months dealing with the new recruits.

* * *

"So you're the young man who's managed to win the trust of the Varia. You must be quite remarkable."

Vongola Nono was just like Dumbledore. Bright eyes and a kind smile hiding cunning and ruthlessness. Harry didn't trust him as far as he could throw him, although he freely admitted that he was biased by the Varia.

Only Xanxus and Bel were with him at this little meeting. Squalo and the others were needed back at the headquarters to keep things running. Xanxus looked half a breath away from pulling out his guns, and Bel had his hands tucked into his pockets, a sure sign that he was barely resisting pulling out his knives.

"The Varia trust those who are worthy of trust. There's nothing remarkable about it." Harry made sure his voice was calm and polite. One wrong move and the room would ignite faster than Xanxus' X-Gun. Despite that, he couldn't resist baiting the old man who had betrayed his son so badly without even realising what he was doing.

"Still, for someone to move into the Varia Headquarters without being a member is unheard of."

"Without being a member? Someone has been misreporting things to you I'm afraid, sir." Calm and polite, stay calm and polite.

Xanxus froze beside him. Harry had always been adamant that he wasn't an official member of the Varia.

"Oh?" The smile had dropped.

"I'm a part of the Varia support system. Esper Mammon wrote up the contract. Xanxus decided that I could do my job better from within the Mansion, and I obliged.

"You call my son 'Xanxus'? So he's not your Boss?"

Xanxus snarled, and had an X-Gun in his hand before Harry could blink. Immediately, Nono's Guardians were positioned for a battle, and Bel's knives were whirling between his fingers. Harry laid his hand on Xanxus' arm, earning himself a fierce glare.

"I have nothing but the utmost respect for Xanxus. That I don't call him 'Boss' is nothing but personal preference and a running joke between us. If you would refrain from making such insinuations, I would appreciate it." Harry's voice was like ice, and it seemed to cool the tension in the room. Until one of Nono's Guardians decided to open his mouth.

"I didn't think that anyone could collar Xanxus. I'm impressed."

Harry didn't bother erecting a shield. He just watched as Xanxus disintegrated the antique table in the middle of the room, before pointing his X-Gun at the idiot who'd spoken.

"Maybe your problem is that you treat Xanxus like someone who needs to be collared, instead of a brilliant leader and a loyal asset to the Vongola. Xanxus was right. You're all trash."

With that, Harry spun on his heel and marched out of the room, Xanxus and Bel both laughing behind him as they followed.

* * *

There was a prophecy. Of all the things that could screw up his life, he hadn't expected a prophecy. Instead of it being hidden away in the Department of Mysteries where it couldn't hurt anyone, somehow this one had been leaked. Apparently the 'children of the Sky would fracture', and the world would be destroyed. Somehow, everyone had decided that he was one of the 'children of the Sky', and there was a nationwide manhunt going on for him. There was no way he was stepping foot in England until the chaos died down, although Teddy was frustrated. He was stuck in Hogwarts, and bombarded with questions about when Harry would come and save everyone. Harry watched the news as more and more drastic measures were proposed to keep the chaos from coming. Every theory from dark Magic making sentient rainclouds to flood the world to Quidditch players conducting evil rituals was being splashed across the front pages. Harry didn't know what it meant, but the mention of 'Sky' set all his instincts ablaze. There was nothing he could do about it other than warn Xanxus and stay more alert than ever.

* * *

Much to his surprise, Xanxus decided to invite Harry along to greet the young Decimo. Harry was absolutely that if Nono hadn't issued one of his extremely rare orders, none of the Varia would show up at all.

Well, Harry called it an invitation. In reality, Bel had burst into his room and dumped a bucket of cold water on him. When he had jolted awake, spluttering awake, Bel had danced away with an "Ushishishi! Boss wants you in the living room in five minutes!"

Groggily, Harry had dried himself with a quick charm, pulled on the closest clothes to hand – a pair of ripped jeans and a purple dress shirt which somehow had a bright pink stain across the front which refused to come out – and shoved his feet into a pair of old trainers. He was not messing around with boots.

After ten seconds of half-hearted effort, he gave up on doing his hair as a bad job and left it as a bird's nest. Checking his watch, he had two minutes left, so he gargled some mouthwash instead of doing his teeth properly and dashed through the corridors. He reached the living room just in time, judging by the amused glance Xanxus shot him. Everyone was dressed in their formal Varia uniforms, with everything polished and worn correctly. Bel even had his jacket closed instead of displaying his striped shirt. Xanxus was still wearing his jacket as a cape, like a child playing batman, but other than that they looked impeccable.

For a second Harry felt embarrassed and out of place. Then he grinned at the thought of the chaos he would cause, showing up with the Varia looking like this. He guessed that had probably been Xanxus' intention. Or maybe Squalo's; it was too benign a way of causing trouble for Xanxus.

True to his expectation, he got more than a few funny looks as they walked through the mansion. One particularly brave servant even dared to stop him and ask him if he wanted to stop and get changed. Xanxus kicked the poor man into a wall without even breaking stride.

The fluffy-haired teen sitting awkwardly on the fainting couch leapt to his feet with a loud 'Hieeee!' as the Varia burst through the doors. Harry knew that they made an intimidating sight, the most deadly men in the Mafia arrayed against a group of teens trying to fill shoes too big for them.

"Are you the Cloud Officer?" Tsuna asked, once semi-polite greetings had been exchanged and everyone was seated.

"Me?" Harry laughed. "I'm the hairdresser."

Gokudera leapt to his feet, dynamite in hand. "How dare you mock the Jyuudaime, asshole!"

In an instant, Bel had knives flying through the air. Gokudera was trapped in a web of wire, where one wrong move would cut open a major artery. They needed to realise that they weren't playing children's games any more.

* * *

"Have you got a minute, Mammon?" Harry called after the Mist Officer. She stopped briefly, but didn't turn around.

"Will there be any profit in the conversation?" she asked.

"Hopefully, quite a bit." That seemed to intrigue Mammon enough to follow him into the nearby meeting room.

"I need someone to manage my finances in England. Judging by the rumours Andromeda's been passing on, they're on the verge of doing something drastic. I need my money out of Gringotts and somewhere safe before anything happens, but I can't afford to go to England myself."

"Where is the profit for me in this?" Mammon asked.

"I have the equivalent of £10,000,000 in the bank, as well as some assorted books, jewellery and other heirlooms. I have no idea how to manage that amount of money. Invest it however you like, and you can keep a quarter of the profits of any investments you make."

Mammon considered. "This is an enormous task. I know that Gringotts doesn't currently offer you any interest at all, so whatever I make for you will be more than you have. I want three quarters."

"A third, and all of the books," Harry counter-offered. He really had no interest in the old books, as they dealt with obscure Magic far outside of his skill or understanding. They may as well go to someone who would appreciate them.

"Acceptable," Mammon agreed.

Levi almost toppled out of his chair in shock when Mammon passed Harry the bread that night without charging him anything.

* * *

Wizarding communities all over the world had seen similar prophecies. Chaos and destruction were coming on an unprecedented level. Xanxus had scoffed, but passed the warning on the Vongola. England had decided to lock itself down completely. No one was allowed out into the Muggle world, and no one was allowed to leave England. Whatever the threat was, it wasn't going to be able to get through. Harry thought the very idea was stupid, but once a politician had an idea in their head, a little thing like logic wasn't going to stop them.

Teddy turned up on the Varia's doorstep three days after the lockdown had gone into effect. He had managed to smuggle himself out of England with his metamorphagus skills. He had stolen a passport and changed his face to match it. Bel was preening that his teaching had paid off.

Andromeda hadn't been able to come. Her face was far too recognisable, and the Ministry was going all-out to make sure that everyone stayed within the borders. Trying to escape merited a stay in Azkaban. Teddy talked with his Grandmother on the phone every night, and seemed to be adjusting well to life in Italy. He'd spent his childhood looking up to his 'Bel-nii' and the Mansion was like a second home to him. He didn't miss Hogwarts at all, which both relieved and saddened Harry. It said something when a child was more at home among assassins that at a school.

* * *

Harry was enjoying brushing Squalo's hair. It was the longest he'd ever seen, on either sex, and now that Harry had convinced him of the miracle of conditioner, it was beautifully soft and shiny. His hair was proof of his devotion to Xanxus; the only thing he treasured more was his sword. It was rare that Squalo allowed anyone to touch his hair, but sometimes, when he was feeling exceptionally mellow and in need of some pampering, he would flounce into Harry's room and throw a hairbrush at him. Harry had long since learned how to interpret Varian, so he just smiled and got to work.

Xanxus burst through the door, not even bothering to knock. Harry looked up in surprise, not stopping his brushing. It was rare that Xanxus would go looking for one of his Officers, rather than demand that they come to him.

Whatever he had been going to say didn't even make it past the first syllable. He glared at Squalo in disgust, pulling his hair from Harry's grip and yanking it harshly.

"If you've finished flirting, Shark trash, go do your fucking job," he growled, shoving him out the door.

Xanxus paused to glare over his shoulder at Harry before storming away. Harry stared after him in bemusement. Flirting? And why had Xanxus been looking for Squalo in Harry's room anyway?

* * *

The minor skirmishes that had been plaguing the entire Vongola alliance for years were getting worse by the day. Everyone suspected the Gesso Family, but no one could prove anything. Harry had met their new leader once. Once was enough. Byakuran hit every single one of his 'get the Hell away' buttons. He couldn't be trusted, no matter how much he smiled.

* * *

"No, Teddy!"

"Bel joined when he was eight! Do you think I can't handle it? I'm not a baby any more!"

Harry took a deep breath. They had been fighting about this for a fortnight, and it was time to try a new approach.

"Theodore. Stop shouting and listen to me. No," he said as Teddy opened his mouth to respond. "Stop and listen. You are not Bel."

"That's not an insult," he said as Teddy's face twisted in anger. "Bel works with knives. He attacks from a distance, which negated most of the disadvantage of his age. Your biggest asset is your metamorphagus ability. Using that requires you to get far closer to your enemy, which is a lot more dangerous. You know that infiltration has the highest mortality rate of any mission."

Teddy had calmed down and seemed to be listening to him. "But, I have Magic. I can attack from a distance now."

"Magic is distinctive, and can't always be passed off as illusion. You know that Xanxus doesn't want to use Magic except where there is no other option. And he won't want you getting killed off before you're old enough for your morphing be useful."

"Old enough?" Teddy demanded.

"You're twelve, Teddy. You can make yourself look maybe two years older, but there are a very limited number of places where a fourteen-year-old infiltrator would be useful. Once you're sixteen or so, you'll come into your own, and you'll have four extra years of training under your belt."

Logic seemed to be working where emotion had been bouncing off him for the past two weeks.

"So I can join once I'm sixteen?"

"When you're sixteen I won't object if you still want to. It'll be down to Xanxus and Squalo though, you know that."

Teddy nodded, and threw his arms around Harry. "Thanks, Uncle Harry. And I'm sorry."

Harry hugged him back. "It's fine, brat. Just don't grow up too quickly, alright? Now, go track down a minion. You need to work on your German if you want to meet the language requirement."

 


	17. Future (Part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been told that this is slightly confusing. The first section is the present. Everything after the first cut is memories of the future. Also, here be slash. You have been warned.

Andromeda levitated Harry up to his bed. She called the Varia every hour as Harry stayed locked in whatever nightmare he was being forced to endure. They didn't answer, and he didn't wake.

* * *

Xanxus was being nice. It was moderately terrifying. He had actually let Harry cook chicken instead of steak for dinner, and he had let Bel show him his new knife trick. He had even spent a whole hour listening to Levi explain his new attack without once punching him.

It was seriously disturbing. Lussuria was swanning around the mansion with a smug smile on his face as everyone else watched with increasingly panicked bemusement. It came to a head when Squalo grabbed Harry and pulled him into his office.

"Voi! Do something!" he yelled, sounding slightly desperate.

"About what?" Harry was seriously confused.

"About Boss!"

"What can I do?"

"He's courting you, idiot!"

Wait, what? What the Hell? Harry thought over the past two weeks. How Xanxus had looked to Harry every time he did something nice, how he had made a point of making time for Teddy and Bel in particular. Had he really been trying to attract his attention?

"Oh my God, you're a moron," Squalo sighed. "We thought you were just playing hard to get. Did you grow up under a rock or something?"

"I had all of two girlfriends before the war, and none after," Harry snapped defensively.

"Girlfriends? Please tell me you're not straight," Squalo said, burying his head in his hand.

"I'm bi. So, he was being nice to try and impress me?" Harry was completely nonplussed by the very idea.

"It was Luss's idea. He didn't think you would be impressed by wealth or force like everyone else. Now, either accept or reject him so we can go back to him sulking and throwing things like normal!"

Harry thought about Xanxus. How he always had time for Teddy, even before this. How he had welcomed him into the Varia, and not forced him to fight. How he looked working out in a sleeveless shirt with sweat making every inch of skin glisten as his muscles rippled.

The next day, Harry was limping and Xanxus was back to gleefully throwing glasses at anyone who dared to approach him.

* * *

The Vongola was losing ground every day. Smaller Families, allies of theirs, the vital support network they depended on was being whittled away, and they were powerless to stop it. Harry, as the quasi-official liaison between the Varia and the main Family, was being run ragged, relaying orders and information and reports. But no matter how fast they moved, the Vongola were always one step behind their enemies. Everyone was frustrated by this new threat that hid in the shadows.

* * *

Teddy was at the Vongola Mansion instead of Varia Headquarters for once. Fuuta had asked him to come over, and the two of them were involved in some kind of incredibly boisterous game with Lambo and I-Pin. Harry was supervising them as they ran around causing chaos. He didn't even wince as he heard another vase crash to the floor, he just quietly vanished the pieces before anyone could cut their feet. He could have repaired it just as easily, but it wasn't his job to take care of the valuables, just the children.

Normally, Chrome kept an eye on the children. With her illusions, she was more able to keep them out of trouble than Kyoko or Haru. But she had vanished two weeks, and Harry had just found out the reason the other day.

Chrome had been pleading with Tsuna to help her release Mukuro, the other Mist Guardian, for years. Tsuna refused to deal with the Vendice, for whatever reason. Harry knew that there was a lot of pressure from the old generation to keep Mukuro locked up. Chrome had gotten tired of waiting and tried to break Mukuro out herself. Needless to say, the attempt had failed and Chrome had vanished.

From the Vongola, anyway. She was still in touch with Mammon, who kept her location and plans secret for a fee. Harry passed small gifts, like potions and food, to them through Mammon. He was fond of the shy illusionist. Perhaps he had been with the Varia too long, but the idea of leaving one of your people to rot in prison was disgusting to him. It reminded him too much of the eight years his lover had spent frozen while his Family suffered. The Varia wouldn't mourn you if you died, or send backup if you screwed up a mission, but they would at least send someone to take you out rather than let you be tortured. A great deal of Tsuna's power came from the threat of Mukuro, and leaving him in prison was a poor way to repay him.

Harry grinned as he heard another priceless ornament crash to the ground.

* * *

The Gesso and the Giglio Nero Families had combined to form the Millefiore. Suddenly, everything was chaos. The skirmishes had stepped up until they were all-out attacks, and half the smaller Families in the alliance had already been completely wiped out.

Tsuna called the Varia in for a meeting when it became clear that no matter what they did, the Millefiore was always one step ahead.

The Decimo was missing his Mist, Cloud and Rain Guardians. Harry knew where Chrome was, and it was common knowledge that the Cloud stayed in Japan unless the emergency was truly dire. The Rain was different; he had heard that Yamamoto had left to play baseball, of all things. Squalo had been furious. He had stepped up his plans to become the Sword Emperor, taking Lussuria with him to film the matches. The Varia had been scrambling to make up for the loss of two of their Officers, and Xanxus himself had been forced to run missions. The first thing he did when Squalo returned was lock him in an office with all the paperwork that Xanxus had been forced to actually complete, since the two people who normally did it for him were gone.

"We need to stand strong." Tsuna said. He had matured in the past few years, and his voice held a hard-won authority. "We won't allow the Millefiore to beat us so easily."

"Nice sentiment, trash," Xanxus said. "What do you want to do about it?"

"There are rumours that the Millefiore are building a base in Japan, near Namimori. Hibari is keeping an eye on it. Our base there is almost complete. Hibari and I are working on idea, but it's not past the brainstorming stage yet, I'm afraid."

He cast his gaze across the Varia. "You've been doing more than your share, and I'm sorry I have to put more on you. But you're the biggest asset we have right now. Bel, I need you to work with Gokudera. Try to come up with some kind of idea of where they'll strike next. Analyse their actions, try to see a pattern. Ryohei is organising emergency aid and support. We're working on boosting our response times."

Tsuna sighed, for a moment looking like the young man he was. "Our lack of a Mist is really hurting us right now. We need someone on the inside. Once we know what they're doing, we can go on the offensive."

"Voi! We'll see what we can do. Just like the shitty Boss, expecting us to pick up the slack," Squalo grumbled.

Xanxus raised his X-Gun. "Are you comparing me to the trash?"

The meeting promptly dissolved into chaos.

* * *

"I don't care, Bel! Clean your room before you go play with the Vongola," Harry said, exasperated.

"Fine,  _Mama_ ," Bel pouted. "And we're not playing. He's training, and I'm slicing him into tiny little pieces. A Prince does not play with peasants."

"Mama?" Harry asked.

"Ushishishishi! Well, aren't you?" Bel brushed his hand over his fringe, a sure sign that he was blushing and wanted to make sure no one could see.

"Does that make Xanxus 'Papa'?"

"Of course. He was my legal guardian," Bel said matter-of-factly. Harry's eyes widened.

"Ushishishi! Didn't you know? I was only eight when I joined the Varia. The Boss is in charge of all underage members. Luss took temporary guardianship when Boss was frozen, but it transferred back to him when he woke up."

"What does that make Squalo?" Harry was intrigued by the way Bel saw their little family.

"He's like the bitchy Aunt that comes over and complains about the tea and the way you slouch. I suppose Luss is like the big sister, with completely unwanted advice all the time. Mammon's the cool cousin you want to spend time with and Levi's the creepy uncle. Teddy is the adorable little brother. I always knew I would be a much more Princely brother than Rasiel."

"I never thought about it like that," Harry said. They really were like an incredibly dysfunctional family.

"Ushishishi! I'm off to train then." Bel strolled casually towards the door.

"Clean your damn room!"

* * *

Harry wasn't expecting to see the Vongola's Rain Gaurdian when he went down to the training rooms. Most of the Tenth Generation stayed away from the Varia Headquarters, and the Varia returned the favour. Ryohei was the only one who came over with any regularity, and Lussuria enjoyed having someone willing to go toe-to-toe with him when he felt like letting loose.

Last he had heard, the Rain had quit after his first hit. Given that he had been described by none other than Reborn as a 'natural hitman', Harry was fairly sure it was because he had been horrified at how easily killing came to him. Harry sympathised. During the war, and after, killing had come more easily to him than cleaning charms. It was why he refused to fight now, even as the enemy was closing in. He knew what he could become.

"Is Squalo in?" the young man asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"He's training the new minions at the moment. Do you need him in particular? I can probably answer any questions the Decimo has." Harry's position in the Varia was unique. For a man with no official rank, he had as much power as an Officer.

"I just wanted to thank him for the films. I need to work hard if I'm going to catch up. At this rate, Tsuna's going to lose the Mafia Game!" His smile was wide, but it didn't touch his eyes.

"From what I've seen of the Decimo, he's the type to pull through at the last minute." Tsuna reminded Harry a lot of Neville. He seemed weak until you backed him into a corner, or threatened his friends. Then he took you apart.

"Still, I need to start pulling my weight. The Millefiore aren't playing by the rules."

Harry thought of the orphans that had been under Vongola protection, slaughtered in their beds. Films of the murders of Cavallone Family members sent to their young Boss. Vital supplies like weapons and vaccinations being replaced by marshmallows and strawberry syrup. No, the Millefiore wasn't playing fair. And as Harry looked into the eyes of the young Rain, who had given up the sport he loved once again to aid his Family, he knew why Squalo had been so determined to film those hundred matches.

* * *

"Give me the damn uniform," Harry demanded out of the blue.

Xanxus and Squalo, who were going over reports during the rare moment of calm, turned to look at him.

"The fuck, trash?" Xanxus really wasn't very eloquent when he was surprised.

"The Varia need everyone they can get. The idea that I'm not one of you is just a matter of paperwork by now anyway. Give me the uniform, and I'll start pulling my weight."

"Voi! I'll get you fitted now," Squalo said, pushing himself to his feet.

Xanxus just closed his eyes and leant back in his throne, a satisfied smile on his face. And so Harry became the Varia's Cloud Officer, the only Officer who went by his real name. He was only willing to go so far.

* * *

Fran was a cute kid. A stick thin teenager, who refused to give his real name, age, or even hair colour, he was bitingly sarcastic and a lot of fun. Harry had run into him on a routine mission and promptly adopted him. Bel had teased him about playing Mother, but he seemed to enjoy squabbling with the boy, at least. He was a powerful illusionist, which was always handy to have around. His first night at the mansion, he made all the doors seem to be a foot to the left of where they actually were. Only Squalo and Xanxus had caught the trick. Harry had apparently been permitted to see through the illusion, but Bel, Lussuria and Levi spent the whole evening walking into walls. The Varia already had Mammon, so they didn't need another Mist Officer, but the boy was too good to be thrown into the general pool and left to fend for himself. Mammon solved the problem by getting in touch with Chrome. The girl was willing to look after Fran, and Mukuro would train the boy. Although they didn't say it, Harry knew that they were both grateful for the Varia's support, and eager for a way to erase the debt.

* * *

It was one of those rare quiet evenings in the Vongola Mansion. Squalo was out on a three-day training mission with the new recruits, Bel and Mammon were on a Mission, Levi had gone to report to the Vongola and been caught there by the rain, and Lussuria was on some kind of spar retreat. Harry and Xanxus had the mansion all to themselves.

Harry pushed open the door to Xanxus' office, where they general ate together, Harry on the sofa and Xanxus on his throne. To his surprise, Xanxus was already sat on the sofa, with a table pulled up and set neatly with an actual tablecloth. Two plates of something that smelt divine were already set. There was even a candlestick, casting flickering light through the dark room.

Harry looked curiously at Xanxus as he sat down. To his shock, Xanxus actually flicked his gaze away for a second before meeting Harry's eyes almost belligerently.

"The fucking trash had been bitching at me not to forget our anniversary," Xanxus snarled. Even in the candlelight, Harry could see the blush that rose to his cheeks.

"It's perfect," Harry said, leaning forward and claiming his lover's lips.

The romantic dinner had long gone cold by the time either of them remembered it was there.

* * *

Teddy was demanding to be allowed to join the Varia officially. Xanxus had grudgingly bowed to Harry's wishes and denied him, but Harry knew he couldn't keep Teddy safe much longer. They desperately needed manpower, and Teddy's metamorphagus abilities would be invaluable. But they leant themselves to infiltration missions and information gathering. They were the riskiest missions to run, with the harshest penalties for being caught. Infiltrators prayed for an enemy who would kill them quickly. Mammon was their go-to for spying and infiltration, as their strongest Mist user. Even she could be caught unaware.

Levi was the one to find her, coughing and trembling, three miles from Headquarters. He carried her back to the mansion at a dead run, calling ahead to have medics waiting. Once she was safely ensconced in her room, the entire group gathered at her bedside.

"They have some kind of ray that's being emitted into the atmosphere," she said in a shaky voice. "It weakens the Arcobaleno. It's toxic to us. I should charge you for this information."

"Ushishishi! I'll transfer the money to your account," Bel said. Harry had to applaud his attempt at normality.

Everyone seemed to take their cue from that. Squalo shouted something incomprehensible and promised more training. Xanxus huffed, scowled, and left the room as soon as it became apparent that Mammon wasn't going to collapse then and there. Lussuria trilled about redecorating Mammon's room, since she was going to spend a lot more time in it if she was unable to leave the mansion.

"Can you get this to Lal Mirch?" Mammon asked Harry, once the room cleared of everyone else except the two of them and Bel. "Of all of us, she has the most claim to it." In her hand was a cracked pacifier.

* * *

It was Harry and Xanxus' biggest fight. They had squabbled before over petty things, but had somehow managed to avoid any major disagreements.

"He's too young!" Harry yelled, hands clenched into fists to stop himself reaching for his wand.

"He's old enough to know his mind. Stop fucking coddling him. He's Quality and we both know it. Be grateful I'm giving him a couple of easy missions with the trash before he gets thrown in the deep end." Xanxus wouldn't even look him in the eye.

"Grateful? You're sending my Godson into that scorpion pit and I'm supposed to be grateful? Like Hell."

"You told him he could join at sixteen," Xanxus growled.

"That was when we were at peace! Not when his first mission would be something that last year, you wouldn't even consider sending anyone below Officer on," Harry said.

He knew that Xanxus had a point. He knew that if he forbade it, Teddy would go behind his back, because his Godson was far too much like him. But it felt like ice in his lungs and a knife in his stomach. Xanxus turned his head, and Harry fled the room. He wouldn't be able to hold it together if he saw regret in his lover's eyes.

* * *

Bel's screams echoed through the halls. This wasn't a fighting cry, or even one of surprise. This was bone-deep grief, and it had Harry leaping from his bed and rushing down the hall, following the cries. Squalo met him outside Mammon's room. The screams from inside had faded into sobs. Bel knelt by Mammon's tiny body. One of his knives was buried in her chest, and a pool of blood spread out on the sheets beneath. How could such a small body hold so much blood?

"Bel," Squalo said softly. "Did you…"

"No!" Bel yelled, whirling round to face them with a mad grimace on his face. "The Prince didn't do this! He found Mammy like this. She was holding the knife. Why would she do this? The Prince doesn't understand."

All Harry could do was hold Bel as he sobbed his heart out next to the cooling corpse of his best friend.

* * *

Lussuria had decided that he wanted a change. He showed Harry his book of designs for his new hairstyle, and they spent a peaceful couple of hours deciding what would work best. He needed to balance recognisability, colour coordination, the ability to match with his clothes, framing his face and avoiding cliché.

Yellow was rejected as too obvious. He wanted to keep the green side-sweep. Purple and pink were too feminine, blue apparently made him look like a mermaid when paired with the green, and orange was Boss's colour. Red was settled on as the second colour. He didn't want to look symmetrical, and he wanted something vaguely avian-inspired in honour of his beloved Pea-chan.

The Sun Officer was thrilled with his red Mohawk. It resembled a cock's crest, which suited the preening man right down to the ground.

* * *

Harry knew that he wasn't going to like what he heard when Xanxus called him into one of the official briefing rooms instead of his office. The suspicion turned into a certainty once he stepped into the room. The man there wasn't his lover, it was the Varia Boss.

"We need someone on the inside of the Millefiore," he said as soon as Harry closed the door behind him. "Teddy is the best infiltrator we have, and the only one who won't be caught the moment he walks through the door. His identity is already set up. He leaves tomorrow."

Harry stared into Xanxus' pitiless eyes. The Boss didn't flinch. Harry bowed silently, and walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

He spent the rest of the day with his Godson, brushing up on useful charms he could perform wandlessly and playing Varia tag with Bel. He cooked spaghetti Bolognese for dinner, and made chocolate cake for desert. He even tucked Teddy into bed at the end of the day, smiling indulgently as Teddy rolled his eyes before snuggling down into the duvet.

He didn't start crying until Xanxus pulled him into his arms that night. His lover held him close and rubbed his back as he cried himself to sleep.


	18. Future (Part III)

Teddy sat by his Godfather's bed, holding his hand. He didn't know why Uncle Harry had collapsed, or what was wrong with the Varia and why Bel-nii wasn't picking up the phone. He just wanted Uncle Harry to wake up. It had been three hours already. He wanted to know what his Godfather was dreaming of, and why he kept whispering his name.

* * *

 

"So these are new developments?"

"That's right! A trio of scientists used some designs from a genius of Primo's time to create these weapons. The Rings are based off the Vongola Rings; you channel your resolve into them, and they allow you to open the Box Weapon!" the Weapons Development manager explained.

"Voi! What's with the colours?" Squalo demanded.

"The colours are for the different wave energies that people can access, which dictate the colour and nature of the Flame produced. Orange is for Sky; Sky Flame users can open every box, although the rsults doesn't seem to be as powerful as if the Box was opened by a user of its specific type. Red is for Storm, Yellow is for Sun, Blue is for Rain, Green is for Lightning, Indigo is for Mist and Violet is for Cloud."

Lussuria immediately grabbed the yellow box and ring set, and cooed about how pretty it was. Levi took the green set dubiously. Bel picked up the red set, commenting that he was expecting a Princely weapon. The scientist started to sweat. Squalo swept up the blue and orange sets, tossing the orange to Xanxus, who threw his wineglass in retaliation. Fran looked utterly disinterested in the indigo set. After a minute, all that was left was the violet.

"Focus all your resolve into the Ring. You need to light it with your Dying Will!" the scientist said, once Rings were all on fingers, with Boxes in hand.

Xanxus was the first one to manage it. His ring lit up with bright orange Flame, engulfing his hand. He slammed the ring into the hole in the top of the Box Weapon. A bright light burst out, making Harry squint and look away. When he looked back, a white lion was curled up at Xanxus' feet. He had a hand its fur and a smile on his face. Harry smiled softly as Levi started exclaiming about how talented his Boss was.

It took a few days for the rest of them to open the Boxes. Lussuria had a peacock which emitted healing Sun Flames. The spoiled bird was immediately names Pea-chan, and most of Lussuria's designs for the next month involved peacock feathers. Squalo had a shark, and after the first time, he didn't open his Box again for two weeks. It was only once Xanxus threw a glass at his head and yelled at him to "get the fuck over it, shitty Shark! I don't need a Captain who's scared of his own trashy weapon" that Squalo started practicing fighting alongside it. Bel had a mink called Mink whom he adored. It had a fringe that matched his, and spent most of its time curled around Bel's neck. After two days, it was even mimicking his laugh, to the terror of the entire Storm Division. Levi had a Manta Ray, and he immediately set to work designing aerial attacks.

Harry's own Box Weapon was Canaries. Cloud Canaries that Propagated themselves until the enemy was surrounded by a wall of feathery death. Harry remembered Hermione shouting furiously at Ron and laughed until he cried.

Fran had returned from wherever he had been training with Mukuro, He was terrifyingly skilled, and grated on Bel's nerves like nothing Harry had ever seen. It was a cross between adorable and hilarious. Fran had taken to calling him Aniki, purely to annoy Bel. In return, Bel had started calling him Harry-nii. Harry was trying to avoid choosing a side, even as their squabbling made his chest ache. He missed Teddy.

* * *

 

The Wizarding world was completely destroyed. In less than a week, every Magical community across the world had been wiped out by the Millefiore. Wizards had no idea how to fight against Box Weapons, and they simply couldn't adapt in time.

Everyone Harry had known in England had been killed. Andromeda had made on final phone call, passing on the message. She was the last one standing, and they were coming for her. She knew the protections on the house wouldn't hold for long, and they were hard on her heels. There was nothing more she could do. Harry, trapped by the anti-Apparition barrier, could only listen helplessly as three White Spell members cut her down in her own bedroom.

Xanxus fought with him until he was completely exhausted, sweaty, burned and bleeding. Then he held him while he screamed out his pain and grief.

* * *

 

Harry spent six hours modelling uniforms for Lussuria, letting him take photos, make adjustments and pin labels to the clothes while he wearing them. One in particular finished with more paper cloth showing, covered in notes that said things like 'add body armour', 'that green just doesn't work', 'zips instead of buttons', 'more room across the chest' and 'maybe some piping'. By the end of the afternoon Harry was exhausted but Lussuria was practically glowing as he spun around the workroom. He considered it a day well spent.

* * *

 

"So why did you throw Levi through a wall?" Harry asked, as he and Xanxus enjoyed a rare moment of peace holed up in his office. Normally, they took advantage of the quiet times in a bedroom, but Xanxus had been in a foul mood all day.

"Trash called me an Inverted Sky." That would explain it.

"Oh, I've been hearing about that." Xanxus shot him a look that told him to explain, right now.

"Well, before, knowledge about Flame was limited pretty much to the upper echelons of the Vongola, right? And the Vongola Guardians, plus the Arcobaleno, plus whoever managed to activate it with Reborn's bullets or whatever, is a really small sample size to decide anything about how they actually work."

Xanxus' look had changed to 'get to the point'.

"But now everyone with enough resolve can use Flames, and so people are looking for links. Rain is the most obvious, I suppose. Rains are meant to be all peaceful and tranquil, because softening is the property of Rain, right? So people who are all peaceful and soothing are 'Classic Rains' and people who are loud and aggressive are 'Inverted Rains'. Yamamoto is a 'Classic Rain', and Squalo is an 'Inverted Rain', apparently."

"What the fuck kind of difference does it make?"

"None at all, really. It's a descriptor of personality more than anything, with absolutely no bearing on power or Box weapons or anything at all, really. 'Inverted Flame' seems to mean 'I can't fit you into the little box I associate with your Flame'. You're an Inverted Sky because you won't accept any trash that comes knocking, like Sawada does, and I'm an Inverted Cloud because I'm not a vicious, anti-social asshole. It doesn't mean anything. Levi wasn't trying to be offensive, he was just excited because he thought he had learned something new."

"Trash still deserved it." Still, Xanxus seemed happier now. They finished their drinks quietly.

After a minute, Xanxus shoved his paperwork aside with a snarl, and pushed Harry down against the sofa.

* * *

 

Harry was the only one in Tsuna's office when the young Don finally broke down crying.

"I'll just run this past Reborn, but…" Tsuna stopped talking as he realised what he had said.

The awful forced smile he had been wearing since the Sun Arcobaleno died slipped, and his lip started quivering. Harry took a step forward, and that was all it took to break the dam. The young Decimo was sobbing like his heart was broken, arms wrapped tightly around his chest as he rocked himself back and forth. Harry knelt beside his chair, offering a silent support as Tsuna cried all the tears he hadn't let himself shed since his tutor died.

"I'm sorry," Tsuna said at last, forcing that awful smile back up.

"Don't be sorry. You're allowed to grieve, Tsuna. You're allowed to cry. You're a twenty-three-year-old carrying an awful burden, and you're allowed to put it down once in a while. You're human, Tsuna. You don't always have to be strong." Harry spoke calmly, soothingly, like he would to Teddy.

"But it's so selfish! Everyone is hurting, and we can't afford to stop moving. Every day we lose ground and lose people and what good am I if I can't keep anyone safe?" Tsuna was almost screaming.

"Stop, Tsuna. Stop and listen." Harry paused for a moment to make sure that he had the young Boss's attention. "You are doing a fantastic job. All your Guardians are alive. Vongola is still fighting. We aren't just puppets, Tsuna. We make the choice to follow you. You can't push us into something we don't want to do, alright? Grief is selfish, by its nature. And that's OK. You're allowed to grieve however you need to, Tsuna. Just don't bottle it up until it breaks you."

Tsuna nodded, wiping his eyes. Harry offered him a small smile as he left the office.

* * *

 

"Can I try your Ring?" Harry asked Squalo one evening, when they were all gathered together in the main lounge watching some cheap slasher movie with more blood than plot. Bel was the only one who was into it, eyes fixed intently on the screen, giggling every time someone died.

"Why?" Squalo asked, already pulling the ring off his finger.

"I was assigned as Cloud Officer because it was the only opening. I'm lucky that I had Cloud Flames at all, really. I was wondering if I had any others."

"That's a good idea!" Lussuria said. "Why don't we all see what Flames we can access?"

After half an hour of experimentation under Xanxus' amused gaze, with Bel participating only reluctantly and with one eye constantly on the TV, they had established what Flames everyone could use. Lussuria was a pure Sun, and didn't get even a flicker of response from the other Rings. Likewise, Fran was a pure Mist. Neither of those were a surprise.

Levi could light the Storm Ring, and the Mist, to everyone's surprise. Squalo could light the Sun. Bel could light the Cloud and Mist. Harry made the Rain glow almost as brightly as Squalo did, and got a good response from the Lightning as well.

"Looks like you're a Rain primary, trash," Xanxus said, making Harry jump. Xanxus hadn't said anything all evening.

"Well, Rain's taken. I'm the strongest Cloud you have, anyway, so I guess I'm stuck as the Officer."

With their curiosity satisfied, everyone settled back down to watch the movie, Harry making a mental note to see about obtaining a Rain Box. Just in case.

* * *

 

"Do my hair tomorrow," Xanxus demanded one night as they lay next to each other, sweaty and spent.

"Any preference?" Harry asked sleepily, curling closer. He loved the feeling of Xanxus' strong arms wrapped around him.

"Nothing fancy. Just grow out the sides. You're the hairdresser."

"Sure thing." Harry kissed the shaved patch that his lover had above each ear, laughing as Xanxus turned his head to claim his mouth in a passionate kiss. Xanxus was insatiable.

* * *

 

It had been two weeks since Teddy's scheduled check-in and Harry was on edge. No amount of awkward reassurance from the Varia could ease the knot of panic inside him that said something had gone horribly wrong. One morning, a DVD appeared on their front doorstep, the case embossed with the Millefiore Crest.

Once it had been checked for drugs, illusions and explosives, the Varia gathered in the lounge to watch it. Xanxus sat on his throne, with Harry alone on a sofa. Levi and Lussuria took armchairs, and Bel and Fran took the other sofa. Harry's every instinct was shrieking that something very bad was on that DVD. Lussuria pressed play.

Byakuran's white head popped up on screen. "Hello everyone! Are you sitting comfortably? Do you have your snacks ready? Trust me, once the show begins you won't want to move from your seats. Are you ready? Then let's start the show!"

The scene cut from Byakuran in his office to a lounge. A man Harry recognised as Irie Shouichi, one of Byakuran's most trusted, and Byakuran himself were seated next to each other on a sofa, with paperwork spread out on the table in front of them. There was a knock on the door. Irie called for whoever it was to enter. A White Spell member came in with another man in handcuffs. Harry didn't recognise either of them, until the handcuffed man stared straight at Byakuran. That head toss, that little snarl. This was Teddy. Teddy had been caught. Harry closed his eyes.

He heard Bel suck in a breath through his teeth, and knew he had realised as well. Someone sank down on the sofa beside him. Xanxus had left his throne and was sat next to him. He wasn't touching, but he offered comfort through his presence. Harry leaned against him, breathing in his scent. Whatever it was, whatever was coming, he could face this. Teddy had endured this, he could too. Lussuria restarted the film.

Teddy was glaring at Byakuran in silence. Irie was the first one to speak.

"What's going on? Why is John in handcuffs?"

"This man was caught trying to access confidential information, sir," the White Spell explained.

"Teddy. Teddy, Teddy, Teddy," Byakuran sang. "That was very naughty of you."

Everyone on the film turned to stare at him.

"Teddy? Byakuran, this is John Black. He's a new recruit from England," Irie said.

"No he's not. You're a Varia member, aren't you Teddy? Your Godfather is Harry Potter, that interesting wildcard." Byakuran had stood up. He was in front of Teddy, stroking his face. Teddy was growling, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to bite Byakuran's fingers.

"Well, if Harry-chan won't take care of his pieces, I'll remove them from play."

No. No no no. Harry forced himself to keep watching, to not look away. Xanxus' arm was around his shoulders, a grounding weight.

"Can I have your gun please, Alfred?" The guard handed it to him. Byakuran pointed it at Teddy, before laughing.

"I'm not really a fan of guns. Come here, Shou-chan."

Irie startled, looking up with wide eyes. He walked slowly over to stand beside Byakuran, who handed him the gun.

"Shoot him. Execute the traitor for me, Shou-chan." Byakuran's smile was all poison.

Teddy shifted. The nondescript dark-haired man was replaced by a perfect replica of Byakuran, down to the tattoo under his eye. Byakuran's smile grew even sharper.

"Don't you want to die as yourself, Teddy?"

"I want you to see your death, Byakuran. I want you to watch as your most trusted man kills you," Teddy spat at him.

Shouichi raised the gun with trembling hands to point at Teddy's forehead. For a moment, there was absolute stillness. Then Teddy smiled, and mouthed a word. The gun fired. Teddy collapsed in a growing pool of blood and the sound of Byakuran's laughter filled the room.

* * *

 

The Vongola Headquarters had been razed to the ground. The Vongola had gone to ground in their base in Namimori. The Ninth had been killed. The Varia were the last stronghold left in Italy, and they were beset on all sides. Harry was incredibly aware that only Byakuran's love for twisted games kept him from launching an attack and wiping them out completely. He was completely exhausted all the time, running on pure rage and lust for vengeance. Was this how his lover felt all the time? Xanxus was an even stronger person than Harry had realised.

* * *

 

Children. They were relying on children to fight for them. Somehow, the Decimo and his Guardians had been switched with their ten-years-earlier selves. Had the situation become so desperate that they needed children to fight their battles for them?

The young Tsuna was even more pathetic than he remembered. He whined and squealed and didn't want to fight. The fate of the world and the lives of everyone who had sworn themselves to him weren't enough of a motivator. Only Xanxus' arm around him stopped him Apparating to Japan and slapping the useless child. They were all doomed. The most they could do was complete their own attack on the Italian base, and pray that the children didn't manage to complete screw up their end.

* * *

 

The attack on the Italian base had gone off with barely a hitch, although the look on Squalo's face when Harry's Rain Butterflies saved him was absolutely priceless. Everyone was safe, Bel's brother was dead, and they had just received a message from the Vongola.

Harry was listening to the conversation Squalo was having with the young Decimo, even as he helped Lussuria with first aid for those who weren't injured enough to need Pea-chan. It took more effort not to listen in then it did to keep an ear open. Mostly, he was attuned to any mention of Irie or Byakuran. He prayed that the redhead at least had died in the attack.

Squalo closed the screen and beckoned Harry over before flinging himself down onto a sofa.

"He was on our side the whole time," Squalo said.

"What?" Squalo couldn't possibly be talking about who he thought he was.

"Irie Shouichi was working with our time's Decimo. It was all planned."

Harry didn't stop to hear any more. He caught sight of Xanxus storming into the room as he Apparated away.

He didn't waste any time once he reached the hidden base. Any doors that didn't open to Alohomora were blasted apart. When he blew open the door to the main room, where the murderer was hiding, the entire Tenth Generation was on high alert. They looked so young. Teddy had died that young.

He stowed his wand away, and the room relaxed. Until he pointed his gun straight at the murderer's forehead. The weapon had been a gift from Xanxus, and he had never fired it before. He had been saving it for this. The world was in startling focus around him, but nothing mattered except the trembling redhead in front of him.

"Thirty seconds. Make them count." He would give the man a chance to explain how he could possibly be innocent. Then he would execute him. He barely noticed his Magic erecting a shield around them, so they were contained in their own little world.

"I didn't pull the trigger," Irie gasped, clutching his stomach and looking like he wanted nothing more than to collapse. How pathetic. Teddy had faced death on his feet.

"Try again." He cocked the gun. Just one twitch, and he would have his vengeance.

"I didn't! He smiled at me, he said something, and the gun fired. My finger never moved." Irie looked Harry straight in the eye. "I needed to keep my cover. I don't know if I would have shot him, if I'd had to make the choice. But it didn't kill him."

Teddy had said something. Teddy had said a word, just one word, and the gun had fired. They had gone over wandless spells before he left. Astringo, a household charm for wringing out a cloth. Could it squeeze a trigger?

There was nothing but honesty in Irie's eyes. Harry lowered the gun.

* * *

 

Harry was leant against Xanxus, the phoenix-feather hair ornament tickling his cheek, utterly exhausted. All his Flames were gone, drained by the Ghost, and Byakuran was hovering over them like some kind of evil Angel. Summoning every ounce of energy he had left, he pushed himself upright. If he was going to die here, he would die on his own two feet, side by side with his lover, with his whole Family behind him.

"Did you like my gift, Harry-chan?" Byakuran chirped with a malicious smirk.

Harry felt ice flood through his veins. Suddenly, he was totally alert. There was no anger any more, no fear, no exhaustion. Just pure, plain resolve.

"I found it to be in remarkable poor taste for you to send a film of my Godson's suicide. Don't worry, I can't say that I expected better from you." His voice was cold, the ice to Xanxus' fire.

"Suicide?" Byakuran laughed. "Harry-chan, that was an execution."

"No, it wasn't. You know what we can do with a word. He pulled the trigger himself. He chose his own death, and he died proud. He beat you, Byakuran. You lost that game. Teddy was Quality down to his bones. You, on the other hand, are trash. You always have been, and it doesn't matter how many worlds you destroy. You'll never be able to hide the fact that inside, you're nothing but scum."

Harry kept his eyes on Byakuran, watching as his face twisted in anger. With a scream, he threw himself at Harry. Tsuna intercepted him, and they clashed in mid-air. Harry watched with frozen eyes as the one man in the whole world he hated was turned to ash.

* * *

 

Harry's eyes snapped open, ten years of memories creating a maelstrom in his mind. The moment his gaze landed on Teddy, innocent, eight-year-old, living Teddy, he pulled the boy into his arms. It was a long time before he could bring himself to let him go.


	19. Gathering

Harry heard the phone ringing downstairs, but he couldn't bring himself to let go of Teddy long enough to go fetch it. The ringing stopped abruptly, and he could hear the soft tones of Andromeda. Andromeda. She was alive. She was alive and well and here. Teddy, who had been enduring the hug quietly, was starting to squirm impatiently.

Andromeda knocked on the door, and came in without waiting for a reply, holding the phone out to him.

"It's your friend Squalo, "she told him.

Harry reached out for the phone, and Teddy took the weakening of his grip to escape. He wiggled out of Harry's grasp, but didn't move far. He sat down beside Harry on the bed, so that Harry could feel his warmth against his side. Harry wrapped his spare arm around him.

"Hello?" he said. Hopefully they would be able to explain what the Hell had just happened.

"What's Bester?" Squalo asked, his voice rough but quieter than normal.

"A Sky liger," he replied automatically. Then he froze.

"You dreamt that too?" he asked.

"Wasn't a dream. Mammon says that she'll explain, but she wants all of us there first."

If they had all dreamed the same thing, Harry couldn't blame the Arcobaleno for not wanting to relive it more than once.

"I'm not leaving Teddy," he told Squalo.

"Voi! Bring the brat along. He's going to need to know why you're going to be a clingy little bitch for the foreseeable future. Have you let go at all since you woke up?"

"No," Harry said, in his best 'do you want pink hair for the next week' voice.

"Didn't think so. Bel hasn't let go of Mammon either. She hasn't even charged him for it. It's weird as Hell. Get your ass over here." Squalo hung up the phone.

Mammon was clutched tightly in Bel's arms. Harry could tell by the stubborn set of his shoulders that nothing less than a direct order from Xanxus could compel him to put her down, and maybe not even that. Xanxus was sat on his throne, eyes constantly darting between Officers. He had all but snarled when Lussuria had tried to leave the room 'just for a second, darlings!', and the Sun had immediately sank back into his chair. Levi was sat on a sofa, scribbling furiously. Harry wasn't surprised; the man was an obsessive diary keeper, and not bad at fiction writing. And he hadn't known that yesterday.

Squalo was yelling at someone down the phone. "Get me eyes on him! I don't care if you've never heard of him, find him!"

He snapped the phone shut with a frustrated sigh, rubbing his hand down his face. "Morons. I don't care how out of the blue it is. His name's Byakuran Gesso, he can't be that hard to find."

Teddy was practically vibrating in place. Despite the number of times Bel, and occasionally Squalo, Mammon and Lussuria had visited, he had never seen the mansion before. Bel walked over to them, pausing for a moment as he shifted his grip on Mammon so that she was supported by only one arm. Then he flung himself at Harry and Teddy, wrapping his free arm tightly around them.

"The Prince did not like that dream. And the Prince will not allow his kouhai to take dangerous missions until he can beat the Prince in a fight without his Magic. The Prince forbids it." Bel's voice was muffled by Harry's shirt.

Harry wrapped his arms around the shaking boy, fighting back his own tears. Teddy did the same.

"I don't know what's going on, Bel-nii. But I'm fine, and Uncle Harry's fine, and we're all safe."

Harry had the most amazing Godson in existence.

Mammon somehow managed to exude an aura of resigned tolerance as Bel refused to release her. Harry had no idea how she managed it with half her face covered. Maybe it was an illusionist thing?

"Explain, Midget," Xanxus demanded, once they were all settled on the sofas.

"Yuni's sacrifice enabled the Arcobaleno to be revived. Sacrifice is a powerful thing. From a Sky, and an Arcobaleno, it is even more so. There was a lot of power left over. There was a debt to be paid, and I dislike owing people. So, we Arcobaleno combined our powers to seal the Mare Ring in this time, so that Byakuran will no longer be a threat. We gave the memories of the last ten years to anyone who had been present at the final battle against Byakuran. We Arcobaleno received the memories up until the time of our deaths, and after our revival. And we sealed the Box Weapons into Rings."

Harry looked down at the rings on his finger, one in the shape of a canary and the other in the shape of a butterfly. He had barely noticed them, the weight feeling so familiar to him. Now that his attention was on them, he could feel the thrumming energy within them. If they were like Box Weapons, did that mean he just needed to channel his Flame into them?

A roar echoed around the room. It seemed that Xanxus had beaten him to it. Bester prowled around curiously, sniffing at everything. It was no secret that Xanxus doted on the liger, and she had spent far more time out of her Box than inside it. Everyone seemed to take that as their cue to release their Box Animals. The room quickly descended into chaos. Mink seemed happy to curl up around Bel's neck. Teddy was immediately entranced, and Mink and Bel both laughed at his adoration as he carefully stroked the back of Mink's neck. Pea-chan and Manta were both released, although Manta was quickly returned to his Box. He was just too big to be summoned indoors. Squalo didn't bother summoning his Shark. Of all of them, he had been the one to see his Box Weapon as just that, rather than as a companion or an ally. Finally, Harry released Canary and Butterfly. By the time he had gotten around to naming them properly, it seemed strange to call them anything else. Besides, Bel was allowed to call his mink, Mink, so no one had the right to complain.

Teddy laughed at him as his Box Animals fluttered around him for a moment before coming to rest, Butterfly in his hair and Canary on his shoulder.

"You have the girliest animals ever!" he told him.

Harry almost pouted. He had taken enough of this teasing when he first got them. He turned to look at Mammon, who was alone in her lack of Box Weapon. Hopefully they would be developed in this time soon, so that she could join in. He saw Fantasma, sat in frog form on her head, nuzzle her gently. Just then, what she had said came back to him.

"Everyone at the battle got the memories?" he asked.

"Yes," Mammon said, the tone of her voice saying that she would charge for any more stupid questions.

"Including Byakuran?"

"The Mare Rings are sealed. He can no longer peer into other worlds."

"But he'll have all the memories his future self had?"

Squalo drew in a sharp breath as he took Harry's point. Byakuran already had knowledge of every possible world, even if he couldn't add to it. He was still a major threat.

"I've got people looking for him. If we find him before he can build up his Family, we can impress on him the importance of behaving," Squalo said with a gleeful grin.

"Good. You'll probably have quite a window to find him while he processes the memories. I'm dizzy from ten years' worth, I don't want to imagine how bad it is for him. If he were anyone else, I'd feel sorry for him."

"This Byakuran has committed no crimes," Mammon pointed out.

"Ushishishishi! He killed Teddy, Mammy. We're not going to forgive him," Bel said, pulling knives from nowhere.

"I see. I was unaware of that."

"Wait. I died in this weird future dream thing?" Teddy sounded panicked, and Harry didn't know what to say. Bel stepped in.

"There was a war, Kouhai. Byakuran was driving the Vongola into the ground, and you were skilled. Harry didn't want you to, but you insisted and we needed the information. You infiltrated Byakuran's stronghold and got caught. You turned into him before you were shot. You were Quality, Kouhai, but the Prince forbids you from doing it again!"

"Again? I haven't done it in the first place Bel-nii! But I promise not to get myself shot."

"Or join the Varia," Harry said. The thought of Teddy risking his life like that was agonising. Even if it became necessary, he didn't think he could bear it.

"Like Hell. Brat's Quality," Xanxus spoke for the first time, gesturing with his bottle.

Teddy turned to look at him with stars in his eyes. Harry sighed as he recognised the first signs of hero-worship. By the smirk that played at Xanxus' lips, he recognised it too.


End file.
